The Eighth Deadly Sin
by ClimbingUpTheWalls
Summary: What comes after Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride? Katniss finds out with the help of the 74th annual Hunger Games Victor.
1. Preface

We watch the scene solemnly. The boy from Two and the one from Eleven.

For the last two weeks I've kept my fist balled, willing the boy from Eleven to win this. He was the underdog. The anomaly of such a terrible game. At first I'd wanted his District partner to win, the small girl who looked so much like my sister. But the Career from One stole her. The little girl who shrunk into the Earth and died so terribly alone, the cameras zooming in on her face…

I couldn't watch after this, leaving school early after telling the instructor that my stomach didn't feel good.

But her District partner avenged her, hunting down the monster that killed her and ending him for good.

My heart leapt at the sight and I couldn't help but admire him at that moment. He didn't have to hunt down such a wicked monster, he was safe in the wheat field he hid in.

But now, now the one person I've ever rooted for in such a vile game is on his last stand. The boy from One might look like a decent human being beside the despicable excuse of a person that now hovers over Thresh. The screen is split, giving a view of the Capitol freaks that chant his name over and over. Begging him to end the underdog and to become their Victor. No doubt he will.

The room is dead silent as most of us cram onto the old couch and the others stand around it, none of us daring to speak a word.

Prim buries herself into my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me. I feel her tears beginning to soak into my shirt, her lips quiver as the sobs begin. My hands rest on the back of her head as I rock her slowly, I want to look away. I won't though. Can't. My eyes are glued to the screen and nothing will pull me away. Thresh is done. Over. The bone sticking from his thigh was the end of him. His murderer stands above him, joyful in his new found victory.

_Why won't he just kill him? _

Despite how disgusted I feel, I still cannot look away. I feel a duty to Thresh, to see him to his end. It still hurts to watch though.

The newest Victor of the Games steps over the final tribute and my heart leaps. Fear overcomes me and it's as if I'm there. How terrible it must be to come so close to winning? Within arm's reach and then mocked when it's no longer yours. I feel hate, anger, resentment. I hate the District Two boy. I hate him for everything he represents and I hate him for representing everything terrible and wrong with our society.

For a flicker of a moment there is something that comes with this wave of emotion. If he is everything that is wrong with the Capitol, then isn't he the solution? If somebody like him pulled away, said no, wouldn't this be over? Could it?

But as he raises his sword, holds it for a fraction of a second, and then embeds it into Thresh's skull, I know that it wouldn't matter if he took a stand.

There will always be a game like this. There will always be Tributes and there will always be Victors.

The sound of the Capitol screaming fills the living room, the goons that chant _his _name. President Snow's face is the focal point for a moment. The bastard has the nerve to look pleased.

The hovercraft appears in the arena as _he _grabs onto the ladder and is pulled away. They'll collect Thresh later. For now though, he is the last person on the planet that matters to them.

Prim hold onto me tighter as I give her a quick squeeze. Hazelle lets out a breath as she hands Posy to Gale. "Well that's that then."

Caesar Flickerman appears on the screen, reminding us of the recap and the interview to come in the next week. Both mandatory of course.

The T.V. is turned off and I continue to stare at the black screen. Prim and Posy are both crying, their muffled sobs the only sound as my mother quietly excuses herself to get dinner started.

He was a monster. The worst kind too, the kind that embraced all that is evil, welcomed it with a smile and latched onto it as though it were his savior. Who knows, maybe it was?

It was not my place to question these things, he was a Career. One of many in fact.

In about six months he would stand on the stage in our district and then he would disappear into a faded image of all past Victors and I would never have to think of this particular Career.

Still, something bothers me about him. He's the creature in my forest who stalks its prey, follows it for miles and learns everything about it before finally making its move.

I would never meet Cato. I would never speak to him. I would never have to deal with him. He was off to bigger and better things.

And yet, when I lean over and gently deposit Prim onto the other side of the couch and see Gale's eyes, grey and full of hate, I know that somehow Cato had already stepped into my world.


	2. Lust

Lust:

The winter that I meet him was one of the worst District Twelve had ever seen. First, there was a mine collapse that took over one hundred men. Luckily Gale, who had begun work in the mines, was not one of them.

I recognize the blank stares in my school, the ones who force themselves to get up every day. I wore the same look years ago when my own father died. For a moment I am relieved that it is not me going through this again but rather them.

Then there was winter itself, harsh and unforgiving and wiping out what little food we had to begin with.

Nobody knows for sure how many died, there are always casualties in the winter. This year however, was one of the worst in my lifetime. Our classes were suddenly becoming less crowded and at lunch even the town kids would go hungry.

Bodies were burned almost immediately after death as disease began to spread around the District. Often, Gale and I would venture out to the woods and return empty-handed. What little game we managed to get was often starved itself.

My ribs were pronounced through my old clothes yet this was nothing compared to some of the others who resembled walking skeletons with skin stretched over their bodies.

Even Mr. Mellark could no longer afford to give out handouts. Somehow I knew that the Boy with the Bread would not be able to help me this time. Even he had lost a significant amount of weight, maybe not as much as the others but enough that he no longer wrestled in school.

Because of the mine collapse and all of the men lost, there was a state of emergency in which all 16-year-old boys were sentenced to the mines. After all, it was the winter and the Capitol needed its coal.

There were rumors that the girls would be sent down fairly soon but there was no official word on this yet.

I listen carefully for word on this particular rumor, terrified of going down there. It was the tomb for our dead with so many lost down there, my own father included.

I rarely saw Gale now, only on Sundays. It was often up to me to provide food for both of our families while he took care of the money.

I made an effort to go to the Hob as much as possible, so that the others might have their food too, but as winter grew on there was less and less to trade. Anything I managed to catch went to my family and Gale's.

I thought I knew hunger but what I felt now was something else entirely. It was the loss of hope, it was pain in every waking moment, it was me slowly rotting inside myself and being forced to watch the same happen to my sister.

So of course the last thing on my mind was the Victory Tour. I didn't even know it was happening until I saw the bright banners decorating the District on my way to school one morning.

I began to dread Sunday, when we'd all have to stand in the square and wear happy faces as though we were pleased to see our new Victor. I wonder if he would see it? The starvation and the lack of life we possessed here. I'm sure if he did manage to catch it he wouldn't care. He would probably be more anxious to make his way to the other Districts who were waiting to give him the royal treatment. I could care less at this point, the only thing on my mind these days was food and how to get it on the table that night.

I also hated the Victory Tour for starting on Sunday, the only day Gale and I had to hunt together. The ceremony would only last maybe 15 minutes at the most but everybody getting to the square and being accounted for would take at least an hour.

I hadn't eaten anything since Friday evening by the time Sunday came around, that morning it had been almost impossible to get out of bed. My body had grown weak and even the simplest of tasks took a great deal of effort. Hunting especially, which required so much walking and so much patience that it was easy to dread now.

I spent the morning getting ready and eating the food my mother had prepared. It was the last of our meat and was going to go bad soon if we didn't have it now. At least this is how I justify eating it.

In the past I would have given as much as possible to Prim. Now I cut our share even. There was no way I could be selfless anymore. How long would it be before I let my sister starve? I shake my head at the thought, despising myself for thinking this. It was true enough though, at some point a person can no longer bear starvation. At some point nothing matters but the next meal.

We go into the square just before noon, signing in and finding the Hawthorne's to stand with.

It's long after noon that he actually takes his place on stage. He stands there and has the audacity to look at us with disgust. Again, I'm reminded why I hated him during his Games. He looks on at us while the Mayor gives his speech.

I cross my arms, staring right at him and refusing to show any admiration. Much to my disgust in a sweep of the crowd amongst the other girls I spot something like infatuation.

I suppose I understand this, he is attractive. There is no argument there.

All I see is the blood on his hands. Namely Thresh's.

He stands there in a blue button up shirt and coat with black pants, still not affected by the coal that covers everything in this District. Especially the snow that is tainted.

I don't think I've ever hated anybody this much, maybe it's just because I'm so hungry or maybe it's the disgust that's clearly evident on his face. He has no right to judge us, he comes from a place where there must be so little suffering, I doubt he's ever been forced to watch people starve to death.

The Mayor continues to prattle on, oblivious to the monster that stands beside him. He clearly just wants to get this over with.

He knows, like we do, that we are the laughing stock of the country. We have only one living Victor, famous only for his constant drinking and shenanigans.

The square is quiet, by now we should be used to facing these Careers, these monsters. Somehow though, it seems to get harder every year. Maybe because they get more creative in killing. Certainly the boy on the stage is far more ferocious than his counterpart, say, 20 years ago.

I hear the sound of a soft giggle and trace it back to one of the girls who stands only a few yards from me. I glance up and realize it's because the boy is looking in her direction. Instantly I think of her as a traitor, how can she stand there and giggle when the boy up there killed so many children? None were from our District this year but plenty met their end to him, to Cato.

I glare at this girl for a moment before swinging my eyes back to the stage. The Peacekeepers, though more lenient to us here in Twelve, were often more brutal when there were cameras upon them. They can't have the Capitol thinking they were weak, could they?

My heart skips a beat when I finally focus on the stage, he was looking in my direction now. No, not in my direction, at me. Right at me, our eyes met and I thought it's so strange that my typical Seam eyes were staring at the eyes of a murderer. I didn't dare back down though, he may have won the Hunger Games but he would not win here.

I scowl at him, raising an eyebrow and daring him to look away.

He doesn't, of course he doesn't. Instead he continues to stare me. I know what he wants, he wants me to do just as the others did, he wants me to blush. He wants me look at my feet and let out a small giggle. He wants to know that he has an effect on me. He doesn't, I won't let him. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes.

We continue to stare at each other and I know the others are beginning to notice, I'm not sure who though, as I refuse to take my eyes off of him.

Eventually though, he's forced to look away as the Mayor announces his name and calls him over to the microphone. The crowd slowly begins to clap, told to do so by a small screen just below the stage and away from the view of the cameras and the Victor.

I clap my hands slowly though I quit as soon as I think I can get away with it.

He takes his place on the stage, confident and seemingly unaware that the whole country is watching him right now. What would I do if I were in his position right now? I'm not sure I could do it. Either that or I would be used to being the center of attention by the time the Victory Tour came around.

"It was an honor to fight in this year's Games," Cato begins, "and unfortunately I did not have the pleasure of facing your Tributes this year. However, I like to think that District Two and District Twelve will have that in the future. Especially now that I am a Mentor, I also like to think my future Tributes will face your future Tributes and that they will enjoy rivalry in the Games."

Small and quietly whispered voices sound throughout the District, each laced with disgust. This has no effect on Cato, who continues to prattle on about what an honor it was to fight. I try to imagine Thresh in his place, surely he wouldn't embody everything the Capitol was. Perhaps he would stand up there, quiet and recognizing the suffering he saw around him.

Or maybe that's not what Thresh would have done, I'm still not sure what I would've done if it were me up there right now, but surely it would be nothing like Cato. Finally he wraps up his speech and steps away from the microphone, allowing the Mayor to take it back and conclude this portion of the Victory Tour. There will be more events throughout the day, none of which the greater majority of District Twelve will be required to attend.

I accept this with enthusiasm, wondering if I can get away with hunting today. I don't think I have much choice, a day without even attempting to hunt is a day where we will definitely go without eating.

I glance over to Gale, he has the same look over him as I did when Cato spoke. So we are in agreement than? Yes, I see it when he looks over to me, Cato was a monster. It was obvious but it was still nice to have some support on it.

We make our way out of the square, our family sticking close together as not to be separated as everybody dispenses. Prim clutches onto my arm and just as we are about to exit the square, something compels me to look over and back to the stage.

He's standing there in the doorway to the Justice building, his eyes scanning through the crowd as he tries to pinpoint something. For a moment I have this wild idea that the face he looks for is mine. And then I smile and shake my head because it's probably the most ridiculous thing that I've ever thought. I glance away a moment later, just as he gives up and goes through the doors with his entourage. I like to think he didn't find what he was looking for.

After stripping out of our dress clothes and making sure our families were situated at home, Gale and I meet at the fence. We listen longer than we usually would, even tossing a few sticks at the wires to see if it is safe to go in today. The Mayor isn't blind to the suffering in his District, maybe that's why he leaves the fence off, for those who are willing to risk venturing out. However, it would be understandable if he decided to have them turned on today. There were plenty of strangers in the District today. If one of them were to see two skinny teenager sneaking under the fence surely they would report them.

There is no buzz nor is there a reaction to the sticks and stones that hit the wire. Gale shrugs and crawls beneath the cables, waiting for me on the other end. I follow a moment later and together we cover the evidence of our intrusion.

It's harder to do this in the winter, especially when there's snow out. It requires re-landscaping the entire area around it and then taking a step back to make sure it looks proper. There's also the matter of getting into the forest without leaving footprints. Anyone venturing out into the woods for the first time would be better off waiting until the spring, only having to worry about snapping twigs or walking in mud.

After we are out of the prying eyes of the District we no longer have to worry about covering our tracks. We walk in silence for a while, speaking even in hushed voices could scare away any game still lurking around. What in its right mind would willingly be near Twelve though?

As it turns out squirrels would be. I shoot down two of them, neither one has much meat on it but it will have to do for dinner for two families tonight.

We stumble upon gold, for District Twelve anyway. Maybe it was during the mine collapse at the beginning of this winter, maybe we just never stumbled on this part of the woods before. My bet is with the ground shifting, as I'm sure I know my woods fairly well.

There is a small pond that stems from the main lake. The greatest part of it though are the fish that swim under the frozen surface. My stomach grumbles and I know that tonight we will eat. I don't have much experience ice fishing but Gale does. He takes five, leaving the others to hopefully mate and continue to reproduce so that we might come back later. The fish themselves aren't that big either, 5 inches at the most. Two squirrels and five fish, it's the best we've had since the beginning of the season.

"We can sell the squirrels at the Hob. The fish we can divide." Gale says.

"You take three of the fish, you have more mouths to feed."

"You sure?"

"Of course." We both know why I'm doing this, while I'm starving and my family is starving, Gale's brother Rory has gotten worse and worse each day. His stomachs beginning to bloat and he shows the most common signs of dying. I know it's killing Gale not take more fish from the small pond.

It becomes fairly obvious that there is nothing else to catch for the day as we make our way back to the fence. We wait a moment, relieved to find that there is still no electricity flowing. We slip under with our game, starved and wanting only to eat and sleep.

Or maybe just sleep, because when I glance over at Gale he's mid-yawn once again. I stopped counting earlier but that's at least four by now.

"Go home Gale, I can handle the trade. I can bring the money afterwards."

He looks at me, grateful and ready to bolt home. However, he will do no such thing until he's absolutely sure that I can handle this. "Sae will rob you if I'm not there."

I manage a laugh, "Rob me? What did you do before me? She was bleeding you dry."

He doesn't say anything, shaking his head the back-and-forth with a smile on his lips. I'm glad that despite the hunger that plagues us we still have this together.

I give him my two fish for him to give to my mother on his way home. After this I make my way to the Hob, happy to finally have something to sell. I sell both squirrels to Sae who immediately begins working up her stew.

For the first time in a long time I feel good. The coins are heavy in my pocket and there is fish being prepared at home, the very thought of the smell adds a skip to my step.

In leaving the small knoll that the Hob rests on, not paying attention to my surroundings as I go on. It's a dangerous move on my part, anytime they wanted the Peacekeepers (despite being some of the Hob's biggest customers) could storm in and drag out everybody inside, take them to the square and have all of them executed.

I never really thought of this happening though, never could imagine it.

I don't recognize his voice right away or even realize it's me he's speaking to. When I do it takes everything in my power not to make a run for it.

"Stone Face, yeah it's you all right. The girl who never smiles."

There is no response to this which leads me to realize that this is directed to me. I glance around, not seeing anybody at first. He's an anomaly though. Well fed, clean, killer.

Suddenly, no longer surrounded by hundreds of people, he is much more terrifying. Cato, ruthless killer of 11 children, stands at the bottom of the knoll as though he were waiting for me to come down. I blink and try to keep a cool face. If I screamed they might hear me from the Hob, but really there's nothing they could do to help me. They wouldn't fight him, at most they would report him to the Peacekeepers who would have no power over the matter. He has the power to do anything he wants here.

I managed to stay indifferent under his scrutinization, blinking when he finally meets my eyes.

"You know most girls ask for an autograph when they meet me, the bolder ones ask for a kiss. I wonder what you'll ask for?"

I take a step closer, still a respectable distance away but enough to show that I'm not afraid of him. "I'll ask you to leave my District and I'll ask that you never return."

He laughs a full on laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. I think if I had my bow right now I'd notch an arrow and put it right through his neck. Consequences be damned, my only regret would be that I didn't get Gale his money.

"Oh you're funny." He says when he eventually calms down, still smirking at me.

"Shouldn't you be off playing the Capitol Puppet?"

This brings a scowl to his face, he scrunches up his face and continues to glare at me. No longer amused and slowly receding back to the boy from the arena.

"It got boring. And pitiful. There's nothing even remotely fun to do around here. Of course you knew that didn't you?"

Furious and before I can even stop myself, I kick the snow at my feet to him. It's tainted with coal dust and I hope that it stains his pretty clothes.

He blinks, shocked at what I've just done. Maybe even more shocked than I am.

I'm about to storm off, leave him behind and hopefully never have to see his ugly face again.

I go right past him, keeping my head held high and ignoring everything he might say or do. I'm only a few yards in front of him when I'm suddenly hit in the back of the head, it doesn't hurt so much as shock me, yet I'm tempted to feel the back and to be sure there is no blood.

It's only when I see the small powder explosions of white that I realize what he's done, never really pegged this murderer to throw snowballs. I spin around on my heels, eyes wide and I'm sure looking as furious as I feel. I search for the words to express my anger towards him but no such words seem to exist.

Before I can think about it, before I even comprehend what I'm doing, I'm dropping to the ground and packing as much snow together as best as I can. I stand so quickly that my knees pop and black dots swim in my vision. It's not enough to stop me though as I hurl my snowball at him. He ducks just in time and it explodes somewhere behind him.

While he was ducking he already began making his next ball which he throws at me moments later. I jump out of the way and barely miss it. While I was getting out of the way though, he was already making the second ball which I managed to miss as well. It's the third that finally gets me, hitting me right in the chest and splattering against my clothes. I blink a few times before I'm able to see what he's done. I glare at the splotch on my shirt, aware that it will melt in only a few minutes but that he has won our fight. I think of continuing but it all seems useless now.

He's smirking, a satisfied look coming over his face as he looks on at me. The furry that takes over me has no words, none that I can think of at that moment. Who thinks of words when they are upset though? It's action, pure animalistic action.

And again, without much thought I'm running back towards him with no plan and no idea with what I'm getting myself into. I have no experience tackling a full-grown man but I think I had to have done something right. Either that or it was the surprise of what I was doing that made him suddenly collapse beneath me.

I have no idea what I planned after that so I restored to the only thing I think I could pull off. I move up so that I straddle his waist and then grab a handful of snow and throw it into his face.

He scrunched his eyes up tight, attempting to block my assault at first. He realized what a waste this was though and instead wrapped his arms around my waist and held on tightly as he rolled us over.

My back goes flat against the ground, the air leaving my lungs upon impact.

I struggle beneath him, doing everything I could to fight him off. There was really no point to it though. What could a starved girl from District Twelve do against the Victor from Two? That's when it really hit me who this was. Suddenly my struggle doubles as I attempt to get out from beneath him.

In one swift motion he grabs my arms and pins them above my head and moves so that he straddles my midsection, pushing his knees against my ribs. If I struggled at all his knees would surely leave a bruise. My legs were still free and I try to kick him or knee him in the back. It was no use though, he'd won our little fight and I was now completely at his mercy.

When I finally stopped struggling he smirked, "got a lot of fight in you Stone Face. Not enough though."

Something close to a growl escapes me as I glare up at him. "Get off of me!"

I think now is the time to try and scream for help. Surely somebody from the Hob wouldn't walk right past us? Maybe they wouldn't stop and help but I like to think they would go for help. Not that it mattered, what could anybody do?

The man above me could commit murder and walk away with no formal punishment. I didn't regret kicking the snow, or the impending snowball fight, it was the tackle that I probably should have thought through.

Still smirking he says, "you do exactly as I say and we both walk away with no problem. Got that?"

I continue to glare at him, refusing to budge. He unpins one of my arms and quickly grabs it with the other, holding both my arms above my head with no trouble. Now with the free hand he grabs a handful of snow and drags it across my forehead and lets it melt during the slow journey down my face.

He grabs another handful and repeats this process, lets it rest on my forehead as it slowly melts. My eyes closed on instinct when his palm brushed over my eyes. I had to blink several times at the water at the tip of my eyelashes threatening to spill onto my eyes.

He keeps going all the way to my neck with the next handful of snow. My face feels so cold that it was nearly numb. When he grabs another handful I reluctantly said, "got it."

"You do exactly as I say?"

"Yes." I bite out, upset with him and with myself.

"Good. Now Stone Face what's your real name? "

Still glaring at him I answer reluctantly, "Katniss."

He watches me for a moment, as though to determine if I'm lying or not. Eventually he seemed satisfied that I was not and slowly gets off of me. I jump up, ready to bolt in any direction he's not in. His arm shoots out and grabs mine before I can even take a step. "What's that up there?"

He points to the Hob.

I'm frozen on spot, he comes from the District that trains Peacekeepers, it only makes sense that he would turn the Hob in to the Capitol.

"Answer me, Katniss."

I bite my lip and think of any way I can get out of this. He's not holding my arm to tightly but I have no doubt he could snap it with a seconds notice.

"It's a market." I say.

"It's a shady market if you ask me."

I dare to look from him to the Hob and then back to him. "It's probably closed by now so you should just go."

"You're a terrible liar Katniss, people have been coming and going for a while now. Actually, I'm surprised nobody caught us a few minutes ago."

"Me too… I guess."

"You think they'd have booze there?"

"What?" Was he turning into Haymitch Abernathy? Needing to drown the past in alcohol. "Yeah, I guess it would." No matter how little food there was Ripper always had enough alcohol to keep at least Haymitch drunk. She'd probably be the richest woman in the Seam, maybe even the town, if she didn't drink half of what she made.

"Perfect, take me to the best deal."

"There's only one deal in there. And I really should be getting home soon…"

"Oh no you don't Katniss, you agreed, remember? Consider yourself my new tour guide."

Before I can argue he's dragging me up the knoll and into the Hob.

Usually in the summer people sit around outside and enjoy the warm air, however in the winter they sit inside and ignore the stench as they try to stay warm. With the sun falling I guess I couldn't be too surprised that nobody heard the noise we must have been making, they all sat packed together inside.

Cato drops my hand just as we reach the door. He keeps his hand close by ready to grab again if I make a run for it. I pushed the door open and we both enter. Before somebody complains about me letting the warm air out I quickly shut the door. It's not fast enough, the old man who sells bags turns around and begins to yell at me. He pauses midsentence though, blinking and trying to figure out why I'm standing beside the boy who was on the stage earlier.

Before he gets himself killed I begin to walk with Cato on my heels. People begin to notice of course, looking up from their stalls and trying to figure out exactly what's going on. I wince when I see the town gossip, an older woman who loved to get in people's business and then report it to everybody who was capable of hearing. She would stick around until Cato or I left and then she would begin spreading the story. I think this time people would actually listen.

Ripper does have a stand but she also tends to run around the Hob on slow nights like these. My best bet is to ask Sae. Luckily I've been going to her stand for years now and could probably make it to her blind. I consider telling Cato where we're going but decide the less we're seen talking, the better.

Sae glances up from her pot and begins to prepare a bowl. She does a retake when she realizes it's not Gale beside me.

She blinks a few times before setting the bowl back down and looking between me and the Hunger Games Victor.

Before she can say anything I ask her, "where's Ripper?"

"She's open for business down in the back."

I nod and thank her before continuing to where I think I remember Ripper's stand being.

I really wish it wasn't in the back, there are so many eyes following me with such curiosity and even loathing.

It's an eternity to get to the back, having to walk past so many stands with so many people. And of course it's Sunday, all of the miners are unwinding and trying to relax this evening.

It's always louder in the back, probably from those who indulge in Ripper's service. Tonight is no different.

I push back the curtain she keeps in front of her more elaborate stand and move to the bar. I've bought alcohol from Ripper before on behalf of my mother who needed it to clean wounds. I've never actually been inside her bar, or rather her stand that had stools pulled up to the bench.

I sigh, still regretting the moment I ever bothered to speak to Cato. I guess it's fortunate that by now everybody in the vicinity of the bar is drunk.

Ripper wobbles as we approach, smiling stupidly when we stand before her.

"What'll it be?"

I glance to Cato and wait for him to order.

"Well what do you got?"

She begins to list off a bunch of names I never knew existed, though Cato does not seem at all confused.

He repeats back some of the names and orders bottles, throwing down more money than I've ever seen in my entire life. Ripper is unfazed by it and returns with the box with about five bottles.

"You two have a good day now." She slurs, sliding the money behind her counter. Cato takes the box and nods for me to follow.

It seems I'll be forced to walk through the Hob with this boy again, only now he carries a box of expensive alcohol.

I can barely take my eyes off the ground as we walk, horrified by this whole experience. Luckily nobody comments and eventually we make it to the front door, Cato pushes it open and waits for me to walk out before continuing on. He doesn't bother shutting it and nobody voices protest as we continue on.

"So… I guess the tour is over now?"

He actually spares me a smile, glancing down and adjusting the box in his hands. "Not even close Twelve. Drinking alone is too depressing."

I stopped in my tracks, hoping he's only bluffing. He can't be serious, can he?

When I finally managed to get my voice back I have to skip forward to catch up to him, which is just ridiculous considering he's now carrying that box and would have to drop it to stop me from getting away. He knows my name now and that may just be enough to find me later or report me to the Peacekeepers. It's when I realize this that I know why he's suddenly less careful with where I go.

"Don't tell me you've never been drunk before?" He asks, there's amusement laced in with his tone and I know he expects me to admit to drinking in the past. When I don't respond right away he turns to me and once again inspects every element of my face. Somehow he's put the pieces together.

"Next thing you'll be telling me is that you're a virgin."

When I don't immediately respond he once again turns to me. Only this time I'm blushing before I can help it. The silence is too much to bear and in a quiet voice I ask, "what kind of girl do you take me for?"

He's silent this time.

He takes us to the edge of the Seam where the new houses are being built but are not yet occupied. They will be next spring when young couples marry and move out of their own families homes.

Cato must notice the construction equipment surrounding the buildings and asks, "anybody live here?"

"No."

"Perfect."

He walks to a door with no shame. The doors locked but he sets the box down and begins to twist the doorknob.

"It's locked." I call out from the foot of the stairs, digging my hands into my pockets where Gale's coins and my coins still remain.

"I know that, I did this all the time back in District Two." He answers over his shoulder, continuing to twist the doorknob only now he adds slight force to it. I looked around nervously. Maybe he could get away with this but I sure couldn't. We get caught and it was me going down.

I'm genuinely surprised when the door does open. He lets himself in with his box, as though today was moving day. "Come on." He calls out in my direction.

This time I do struggle to go up the stairs, at least last time there were people nearby. This time we're in the undeveloped housing section where it would be easy not to hear screams. It's out of fear that I climb the steps, not intrigue for the boy waiting behind the threshold. It's growing dark outside with the sun long gone and dinner probably consumed in my home.

It's dark inside, even worse when the door shuts quietly behind me.

I can hardly see Cato, except for the blond hair that is illuminated in the moonlight. He's moving around, getting the box situated on the ground. He pulls out a bottle that clings around on the others. He pops it open and takes a quick swig from it, I see all of this as my eyes slowly adjust in the darkness.

I stay close to the door, reluctant to move any further into the room.

"Come here." He says. He motions me over with his hand, then looks away to take another swig.

I sigh, realizing it's too late to do anything. Decisions had been made and now I was going to have to stick with them.

The room is still painfully dark, I nearly trip over a pile of building wood on the ground. I continue to move over to him, careful with each of my steps. When I finally get to him he hardly pays me the mind as he takes a smaller sip from the bottle.

Silently, he hands me a bottle he must have opened on my way over. I glance at it and know he wants me to drink from it. The thought is almost laughable but then I realize what a situation I've gotten myself into. That in itself is nowhere near laughable.

My hands are shaking, I only realize this when I go to grab the bottle. The stench of alcohol invades my senses. Its vile and I have no idea why anyone would drink this stuff willingly. He watches me closely as I slowly bring the bottle to my lips. I allow only a small amount to reach my tongue and let it sit in my mouth for a few moments before reluctantly swallowing it. This sends a burn down my throat and I begin to cough.

He continues to drink, completely uninhabited by any coughing fits.

I set my drink down, still unsure how I ended up here. Surely by now my mother has become worried, especially if the gossip has been spread and she knows I'm with the Victor from District Two.

The very thought of her knowing, or Prim for that matter, makes me go lightheaded. And what would Gale say? If something were to happen here… He would blame himself.

"I don't understand why people actually drink the stuff." I say a moment later, the burning sensation no longer in my throat but in my belly.

"They don't drink it for the taste, people drink this because it makes everything better. Parties get more fun, funerals are less miserable, it could make entire nights disappear."

"And that's what you're doing? Making your night in District Twelve disappear?"

"That's exactly right."

"So why do that in an empty house?"

"Why do it surrounded by idiots?" He retaliates.

"I'm not sure." I finally say and again I try to place myself in his shoes. I'm not that bold though, if I was in District Two during my Victory Tour I wouldn't wander around and break into houses and drink alcohol with a stranger. Maybe the Hunger Games changed me so much that I did things that I never thought that I would do before.

That's his excuse for being here, what's mine?

"So why didn't you stay with the others?"

"They were bored, most of them went to bed early. Can't blame them though, if I had to come to District Twelve on so many Victory Tours I would too."

I glare at him and just as I'm about to retaliate, he places the bottle back into my hands.

In a much more serious voice he says, "I don't hate you Katniss. I remember you from the square. You are the only one… That's even a little bit different."

He says nothing else and continues to drink from his bottle. I also experiment, taking small sips from mine and beginning to enjoy the burn it creates in my belly.

I'm only a quarter of the way through and already it seems to take an effect on me. The world reels and I actually have to set the bottle down and put both hands on my side to steady myself. It makes no sense either, or maybe it does. I'm not really sure anymore. He's had way more to drink than I have yet he sits there perfectly still. It must be because he's used to this.

I lean back, my back scratched against something. I realize we're sitting in front of the fireplace.

I keep drinking, beginning to actually enjoy the burn it gives me. It still hurts upon the first sip but I find that if I drink it quickly I can avoid this. I'm alarmed to find my bottle nearly empty sometime later.

I hold it up to the window and examine the last bit of liquid left in it. Four big drinks at the most. I set it down but nearly miss putting it in the box, it takes me a few tries to actually get it in the right place.

Cato watches this and though I cannot see him I know he must be amused.

He finishes his bottle and throws it to the side, unconcerned with where it lands.

I can't believe I'm actually sitting here with him. The girl in the square who giggled when he looked at her was not at fault, I am. I'm the traitor for sitting here and actually enjoying myself. It's the first time I've admitted it but yes, I'm enjoying myself here. For the first time since my father's death it's not my responsibility to take care of somebody. I'm allowed to just sit here and let myself go. And while everybody else continues to starve the only thing I yearn for is his company.

"It must've been awful," I suddenly say before I can even think about it, "the Hunger Games I mean."

"It was." I don't know if he actually said this, if he did it was in such a low voice that I hardly caught it. Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on me. I laugh softly and then put my head on my knees to try and stop the spinning.

When I lift myself up and glance over I see him watching me. He really is handsome I think off handedly.

Certainly better looking than the boys in my District. Maybe even Gale.

Now I know for sure that I'm drunk, if I was in my right mind I would never have thought something so terrible and cruel.

For some reason I feel the need to voice this to him, "you're handsome but you're still a monster."

I can't see his reaction and I move closer to see if I could closer up.

We're close enough that our legs are pressed together and are shoulders touching. When his arm brushes against mine electricity flows through me.

I like the electricity mixed with the burn still spreading through my limbs. It's almost unbearable. I want more of it.

I slide my arms around his waist and feeling the muscles twitch.

With my head now leaning close to his chest he suddenly tugs at my hair. For a moment I think he's trying to pull me up but then I realize he's taking my braid out.

My hair falls, suddenly in my face and fanning out all around us.

He pets it for a moment before tugging at it and demanding my attention. His body is warm and I enjoy being pressed so close to it that I'm annoyed when he wants me to look straight at him.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in closer so that I now rest on his lap.

I'm not sure what to do from this new position. With my back pressed against his chest there's nothing I really can do. One arm is still wrapped around me while the other goes to grab his bottle.

"You smell terrible."

"I've been in the forest all day ." I tell him, something tells me this is stupid. I ignore it.

"Of course to were."

I lean back into him, feeling even more muscle to fall back on. He pushes the hair away from my neck, exposing it to him.

The hot breath he breathes onto me is almost excruciating. When he leans in and places a light kiss onto my exposed neck my hips actually buck into his arms.

"You like that?"

I close my eyes and lean my head to the side, giving him more access to my neck.

He drops his bottle, both arms wrap around my waist and hold me securely as he presses a longer kiss to the same place.

A moan rips out between my lips before I can stop it. It sounds so foreign coming from me and if it weren't just Cato and I in the room I would think it was from somebody else.

His hands begin to explore, one going beneath my shirt and the other resting on my thigh.

The one beneath my shirt traces the outline of my bra, touching bare skin and dragging his finger around the old material.

My head falls back onto his shoulder. I'm surprised when his lips suddenly latch onto mine. The taste of alcohol hits me.

I never really thought that this would be my first kiss.

He presses our lips together and everything just feels so good that I don't notice his hands moving at first. He pushes me forward and removes my jacket in a matter of seconds.

It's not that he took it off so fast that startles me but rather that I enjoy it. I want him to take more, to see me as nobody has ever seen me before. Nobody has ever seen or heard me.

Every coherent thought I have left disappears as each button is popped from my blouse. His large hands are ravenous, feeling every inch of exposed skin. Eventually he gives up with unbuttoning my shirt and instead rips the bottom, at least two buttons go flying across the room and I watch them with a bitter sort of delight.

Maybe a nice little couple will move in here and in a few years they'll have babies running around who look down and curiously see my buttons under a layer of dust. The thought is almost so amusing that I actually begin to laugh. God knows what they would think when they saw them.

Our lips are joined together again, my shirt falls to the ground and into a fine layer of sawdust. He's standing up suddenly, spinning me around so that our chests are pushed together as he begins to fumble with my bra. I take the time to grab onto his shoulders and to feel the muscles beneath his shirt.

It feels as though the fireplace has been lit, warming the entire room to the point that is almost excruciatingly hot. Even the tips of my fingers and soles of my feet are unusually warm.

I don't even notice it at first, there is no chill as my bra drops to the ground.

He dips down and begins to kiss my collarbone and just about my breasts. I want him to kiss them. I wonder if it would burn like when he kissed my lips or electrify me like the kisses to my neck?

I hold the sides of his faces, secure in both of my hands, and force him to pull away from my collarbone and move further down until his lips are just above my nipples.

I begin to tug at his shirt though it is impossible to pop the buttons on it with how much my hands shake.

"Oh please." I whimper out, unable to take much more of this.

I look to him suddenly, having a hard time imagining him as the boy on the TV. He quickly strips out of his shirt, throwing it onto the growing pile beneath the fireplace.

He drops to his knees and grabs my waist before pulling me down with him. He gives me a light push so that I fall backwards and onto the cool wood floors, staring up at him in confusion.

His fingers are clumsy as he struggles to unbutton my pants, he gets it a moment later and drags them past my hips and down to my knees where they're tucked into my boots.

Through the haze of alcohol there is some clarity that tells me what we're doing is wrong.

I want to be selfish just this once.

I've never asked for much. I've never been granted what I do ask for.

Together we unlace one boot each, trying desperately to get them off as quickly as possible. He manages to do it first, tossing my shoe somewhere behind him. I've taken the time to unlace the other boot but he knocks my hands away and simply pulls it right from my foot.

I grip the floor as he grabs the bottom of my pants and pulls them off.

I can hardly stand to look at him, anything for that matter. I bury my face in my hands and try not to think as the last article of clothing is taken from me.

And there I am, naked and beneath him with no clue on what to do next.

I don't dare watch his reaction as he looks me up and down.

Sometime later his hand falls onto my leg and his fingers spread slowly, his index tracing between my thighs.

I suck in a breath as his finger slips inside of me. My hands search wildly for something to hold onto. I grip his shoulders tightly, he responds by slipping a second finger into my body.

He begins to move his hand, his fingers going back and forth, in and out. Noises I didn't think I was capable of making are suddenly flooding through my lips.

My entire body shakes and trembles as a flood of liquid spills over his fingers. I might be embarrassed if I had control over this, I assume that was a natural reaction to what he's doing to me.

I can hardly take much more, I want him to do more and yet I want him to stop all at the same time.

The haziness in my mind suddenly falls to the ground and whatever affect the alcohol had on me is suddenly breaking apart when he pulls away and begins to work on getting his belt off.

In the morning I can hate him again, in the morning I can be Katniss Everdeen again. For now I wasn't myself just as he wasn't Cato from District Two. We were just two people with needs to be fulfilled.

He gets his pants down, kicking them off along with his boxers with no shame.

I look at him curiously, having never seen a man who wasn't near death and under my mother's care. He's nothing like those men, much younger and much more fascinating to look at.

His body covers mine, are eyes meeting briefly as he begins to rub himself against me. It's better, so much better than his fingers were.

I look at the scar that reaches from his abdomen to his rib cage or the dozens of small ones that litter everywhere on his body. Small knives, I think. I also think they're my favorite things about him.

I can give this no more thought as he stops teasing me and instead takes my virginity in one thrust.

I arch backwards, the crown of my head digging into the floor and a long groan comes from him.

There is no love in this, how could there be? I've known him an hour at the most. There is something though, a bond?

I don't care, couldn't, even if I wanted to.

Because suddenly he's moving like his fingers did. He is pulling out and moving back inside, over and over in a matter of seconds. I can't take much more of it as I grip my hair and tug at it as well as bite my lip.

He's gasping, moving faster and faster and faster and it just feel so great. He hits somewhere inside of me and my vision explodes into white. I can hardly see anything as he continues to move against me, our bodies making a slapping noise that fills the room.

He slows down and only then do I feel the actual pain in losing my virginity. I gasp, searching wildly for an explanation for why he would stop. I manage to look to him, furious for making things feel so good and then taking that away.

He smiles, crooked and devious and everything I expect from somebody from Two. He pulls out completely, the tip of him just near my opening that it borders on torturous. I try to move so that he is once again inside of me but his fingers push down on my hips as he continues to smile.

He reaches somewhere behind him and grabs his pile of clothes and for a moment I fear he's leaving before we can somehow finish this.

Instead he lifts my hips and places his bundle of clothes under my arched back. He adjusts his hands so that they cup my hipbones (especially sharp in the winter) and in one swift motion is back inside of me, moving faster than before.

I scream so loud that for the first time since arriving I am grateful there's nobody around us. It continues like this for a while, electricity shooting through my body and all sounds in the world disappearing. Finally, when I think I can take no more my body and mind blowup in a silent explosion.

Something warm shoots out into my body as he lets out a gasp that barely registers in my mind. He collapses on top of me and after only a moment of lingering rolls over onto his back.

I stare at the roof that continues to spin, my body still trembling and feeling the aftershocks of what we've just done. Fatigue slowly starts to settle over me and I'm fine with falling asleep right here and never getting up again. I don't want to return to the world where I'm the only adult, the only one capable of taking care of the people I love.

When my breathing finally begins to settle and my heart not nearly as erratic I turn to him and watch his own breathing beginning to slow.

He turns to me a second later and after a moment of watching me closely reaches over and grabs my chin as he pulls me in for a kiss. Not like the others, not fast and desperate or with the promise of more. This is slow, as though to celebrate what has been done.

When he pulls away I lift slightly off the ground and push his clothes over to him. He reaches over to the fireplace and tosses me mine as we dress slowly and without getting up once.

I fall into a sleep, not peaceful or comfortable but simply satisfied.

I am comforted by the knowledge that when I wake up he won't be here.

* * *

He's not and it's just as well.

I take the time to readjust my clothes and re-braid my hair, to look around the room and make sure there is no evidence of our intrusion. It's when I slip my jacket on that I find anything strange, I reach into my pocket and feel double the amount of coins that _he _had given Ripper.

And that's how I leave that new house. With the sun just barely peeking over the mountains on a Monday morning, a limp in my walk and a soreness between my legs and a pocketful of reasons to feel like a whore.


	3. Wrath

Wrath:

The screams are still bouncing off the walls in the living room. I couldn't bear to listen to them for another moment. I'd made up an excuse about my stomach aching before slipping away and hiding in my room like a coward.

There was relief in the passing of winter and the beginning of summer. We did it. We made it. We were still alive when so many of our neighbors and friends had fallen. I squeeze my eyes shut and refuse to think of them.

Another scream sounds from the room and I bury my face further into my pillow, pressing my hands against my ears and wishing it would end already. Damn the Hunger Games and damn the Quarter Quell.

"To remind the rebels that the Districts _need _the Capitol, this year's Tributes will be given no weapons nor will they be given any sponsors."

So it's not enough that they kill each other but that they do it with their bare hands?

There was absolutely nothing in the Cornucopia. The Tributes rose on the pedestals and were met with the otherwise peaceful sound of silence. It was actually a beautiful arena, one you might appreciate for scenery and something you might see as a painting hung in a museum.

As an arena though, especially one you're weaponless in, this was the worst possible case.

There were a few trees that were scattered throughout the arena, nothing that would serve as protection. There were rolling hills but they did nothing to hide the Tributes. The grass itself was cut short, unlike previous Hunger Games in which the grass was tall enough that a person might hide in it.

No, this year there was total exposure and no choice but to see your enemies at a distance. Always.

The bloodbath took only five lives. The Careers quickly grouped together and beat to death anybody who wasn't fast enough to get away first.

These deaths were brutal, a Tribute trying to get away suddenly yanked by the hair or the hood of their uniform and thrown to the ground. They screamed and wrestled and tried to get away but were powerless as six full grown Careers surrounded them and quickly began the beating. One Career might grab the Tribute's arms and hold them above their head while the others stomped and broke ribs. When they eventually began to give up on the struggle and slowly leave the world, their skulls were crushed with relative ease.

Since the bloodbath two days ago, three more have met this fate. Sixteen Tributes remained in the arena, six of them anxious Careers who were already beginning to become nervous with the alliance.

The effect of having to kill with their bare hands was having a toll on them. They rarely slept and when they did they woke up suddenly screaming and scaring away any Tributes who could've been nearby.

I bury my face into my pillow and take a deep breath. They were on victim number nine but by the sounds of it, he was dying.

The Hunger Games serve several purposes to the Capitol, this year's Games did a fantastic emphasis on fear. Despite being on the other side of the country I still felt terrified that it could've been me in that arena. That those were actual human beings in that arena and that they were faced with this demon.

On the other side of the house I hear my sister give a soft cough which she attempts to muffle into her arm. It's no use though, we all hear it. She's better now, able to eat her food on her own and attend school on certain days, but my mother still makes her stay in bed and do very little strenuous activity. The chore of milking Lady now falls onto me.

I don't mind though, I just want Prim to get better.

"It's over now. You can come back to the living room if you want." My mother says softly in the doorway, eyes downcast at me and making it clear that going to the living room is my only option. Usually for the Hunger Games maybe two or three people are arrested for not watching. This year it was close to fifty. The Peacekeepers would even do random school checks, suddenly interrupting classes and pulling students out at random.

Reluctantly I follow my mother into the living room and take my seat once more. The Careers are laughing, some are uncomfortable with this and even look disgusted. Others are laughing uncontrollably, eyes wild and movements jerky. They're descending into madness and have no trouble advertising it.

I sit beside my mother, pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them. Our male Tribute this year was still alive, the girl was killed during the bloodbath. I didn't know the boy and that was probably the best thing that could happen to me this year. Had I known him…

Doesn't matter, I don't.

I rest my chin on my knees and pull my body closer together as the latest victim succumbs to death and their canon goes off.

My mother and I both let out quiet sighs, relieved that it's finally over for him.

We both sit up quickly when we hear my sister gagging. My mother rushes in and I follow behind her. I want Prim to be better. It's incredibly painful to see her so ill.

I don't allow myself to think like this. Instead I grab the bucket beside her bed and stand nearby, ready to hand it to her the second she needs it. But for now my mother continues to rub circles in her back and whisper in her ear. I bite my lip, completely useless in the room and powerless to do anything that would make a difference.

Prim needs the bucket and I quickly pass it over to her. She vomits in such a violent manner that when she's done, she has to hold onto her ribs and wheeze out a few coughs.

She slowly lays back down and I take the bucket from her, going outside to clean it out.

I ignores Lady's soft cry from across the yard, she's perfectly fine, she just wants attention. Unfortunately for her Prim was her primary source of companionship.

I clean the bucket out, ignoring the stench or the way my stomach rolls. There's enough water that I can give it one good rinse but as soon as the raining season really hits it'll need at least eight washes.

I let it dry out for a minute before slowly picking it up and going back inside.

Before I can even set the bucket back down in the room my mother pulls me aside.

"We need medicine for her. The herbs just aren't doing it for her and her fever's going up… We don't have any money right now..." She looks uncertain, hardly able to meet my eye. "Maybe you have something you can trade?" Shame rolls off of her. Sometimes she's like this, upset that she can't provide for us. Upset that we no longer have a father who can take care of us.

"It's fine. Really. I have some old furs I can trade."

She nods, running over to the kitchen and pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil that hardly fits in her hands.

She scribbles away on it for a few seconds before ripping the piece of paper off of the pad and handing it over to me. "Give this to the Town Apothecary." It's killing her that she wasn't able to make the proper formula to protect Prim. I'm not sure what's stopping her, a lack of ingredients or lack of knowledge.

I take the note from her and go to my room. I pull my boots on and grab a jacket, unsure what the weather's like tonight.

I glance out to the living room but see no sign of my mother. I hear her voice coming out from her room though, whispering something to Prim. Confident that she isn't listening to me I lift the loose floorboard under my bed and pull out the bag from there. It's not really a bag though, an old piece of cloth with string tied around the four corners to seal the coins inside. The coins that _he_ gave to me. Most of them are still there. I can hardly stand to look at them let alone reach inside and take a small handful.

I do though, thinking of every bucket I've had to clean and every painful wheeze that's come from Prim.

I put the coins in my pocket and tie up the bag again. I slip it back under the floorboards and make sure it blends in well enough.

Outside is fairly warm, though there is a breeze under it that makes me glad I brought a jacket.

I move quickly through the Seam and make my way to Town as fast as possible. It's later in the evening but most businesses will still be open. Especially anything that sells medicine, they're practically twenty-four hours.

I take deep breaths and feel thankful every time air shoots down my lungs. Gale no longer had this pleasure, walking through the forest and he would become winded fairly fast. Only a few months in the mines and already he was becoming damaged.

My mind was invaded with the sound of both him and Prim wheezing.

I hate it so much that it takes everything inside me not to scream.

I finally get to the small building that belongs to the only Town healer. I know we're related somehow. He could be my grandfather for all I know. He certainly looks old enough, with thin white hair on his head and a hunched back. But that didn't matter, my mother severed every tie she had when she married my father. If the man behind the counter and I shared any blood it was quickly forgotten.

There's only one other customers who is taking his sweet old time picking out what he wants.

The two continue to talk and my patience begins to fade as I tap my foot. Why couldn't they hurry? They saw me come in and they know I'm waiting, yet they continue to prattle on.

The man behind the counter waves me over without taking his eyes off the other man. I dig my mother's note out and hand it over to him. He glances at it and pauses mid-sentence. "Excuse me for a moment Bise," for the first time he looks directly at me, "I've got this in the back."

He takes my note and wanders off into a separate room.

I tap my fingers against the wood and wait impatiently for him to return.

"You know this is going to cost you money?" The man beside me says.

I glance over to him, for the first time really looking at him. Early twenties, simple Town features.

"I have money."

"You have whore's money."

I stiffen up. Nobody in the Hob had ever rejected my money after the Victory Tour, a few of them were guilty of the same thing but with our head Peacekeeper. Nobody had ever thrown out the word 'whore.' Most of them were just curious about what actually happened. I guess it's not too far of an assumption to say that I slept with him. You could just as easily say that he raped me.

I wasn't going to clarify it to anybody. It was none of their business, not even Gale who I would sometimes find watching me with a morbid fascination.

Or Prim who was the only one awake when I came through the door that morning. But she hadn't said anything, especially after I shot a warning glare at her. I couldn't bear to have to explain things to her. Maybe, despite her age, she understood this and had never brought it up.

That had been six months ago and as long as there was no bump growing under my shirt then people really had nothing to talk about.

But now that I look at Bise I'm at a loss for words. How do you respond to that?

I don't have to because suddenly he's right beside me, arm wrapping around and pulling me into him.

"Whore's money. Are you really going to burden us with such filth? Being from the Seam is bad enough." I shove him away, satisfied when he crashes into the wall.

The old man pokes his head out from the other room, "you okay?"

Still glaring at me he answers, "yeah. Yeah I'm fine. I've gotta go though, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing."

Bise disappears, heading out the front door. I still feel violated though, disgusted that his hands were around me. I just want to get Prim's medicine and go. The wait isn't too much longer, the old man comes out with a white paper sack and sets it on the counter. He tells me the price and I hand it over. He counts it before sliding the bag closer to me.

I turn and leave without a word, I couldn't leave the room faster.

I don't walk very far as I hold the paper bag close, terrified of dropping it.

My fear is justified when I'm suddenly slammed to the ground. I can hardly breathe as the air leaves my body. I take several breaths but it doesn't help, I'm still choking on air.

It takes me at least a minute to regain my bearings, I'm on the border between Seam and Town where nothing exists except the forefront of the meadow that leads to my favorite hole in the fence.

The paper bag is at least six feet away but the top is still folded so I can only assume that nothing escaped it.

These thoughts are at the very back my mind, really all I see is Bise on top of me. Once I'm able to breathe again and I realize he's pinning me down, I really do begin to struggle. I kick and twist my body around, attempting to throw him off of me. Despite winter leaving us so many months ago I'm just beginning to gain weight again. A Town boy can easily pin me down. I feel cowardly doing it but desperation calls for screaming.

I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping somebody will come and help me. I can only scream for a few seconds before his hand is over my mouth. I try to bite but he replaces his hand with some sort of material in a matter of seconds. Gagged, I can no longer scream but make only muffled sounds.

Although I continue to fight I feel myself losing energy and failing to free myself from him. When I finally begin to slow down I cry out, still muffled, when he slaps me across the face.

His knees are pinning down my arms while he straddles my stomach.

"Whore. Dirty fucking whore. For the right price I bet you'd give it to me? Where's the fun in that though?"

He grabs my breasts through my shirt and squeezes them painfully. When I let out a scream a sudden light enters into his eyes. He enjoys this. He enjoy seeing me terrified of him.

He's lifting my shirt up, lifting up from me for only a second. It's not enough time to get out and I'm winded when he suddenly slams back down onto my stomach.

My shirt still on, though my bra exposed to him now. He continues to paw at me, leaving scratch marks and turning my skin a furious red. I continue to scream even as my throat becomes raw and painful.

My eyes widen when he suddenly pulls out a knife. He drags it down my skin, though it inflicts no cut.

He sticks the knife in the ground beside him, lifting up slightly and beginning to undo his pants. It's enough for me though. He's up long enough that I can drag myself away from him. He lunges after me but I'm faster.

I grab his knife and twist my body around so that the knife pierces perfectly through his ribs. This time he's the one screaming and I spit the material out of my mouth which I now realize is a handkerchief. I quickly shove it in his mouth and pull the knife from his body. I stab again only this time in the stomach. He screams, amplified in my mind. I stab again, this time aiming for the heart. It works because he's no longer moving. The white handkerchief in his mouth turning red.

I pull the knife out and jump back, ready to stab again if he so much as groans. I'm breathing heavily and having a hard time placing myself right here in this situation.

A bloody knife in my hand and three stab wounds in a boy from Town. Oh the punishment is so simple, regardless of the circumstances. They're going to kill me.

They're going to kill me. The color drains from my skin as it really hits me what I've done. I've murdered him. I don't regret it either, but it doesn't matter how I feel about this.

The Peacekeepers would drag me into the Square. They'd make sure there were plenty of people before they threw me to my knees and shoot me.

And they would find me too. They would know I did it.

We were both seen together in the shop, they knew I had to be there and the old man would tell them that he was there. I need to hide him. It wasn't a permanent solution but it was the best way to ensure my freedom for just a few more hours.

When I grab his shoulders I find that he is far heavier than I could've imagined. I hook my arms under his and try to drag like that but it's still not enough. I can't do this by myself.

I let out a frustrated groan but it comes off sounding pitiful. I manage to pull him off the road and further into the meadow. I do my best to make sure the grass is hiding him, it'll do for now but come morning when all the miners are going to work and all the children going to school he'll be spotted. I grab Prim's medicine and take one last look around to make sure he's camouflaged for now.

There's only one person I can trust with this. I go to his house with desperation.

It takes me forever to get there. If I think I hear Peacekeepers I'll have to pause and hide. Whenever I hear people talking my heart becomes erratic and I'm throwing myself behind any shelter I can find.

Luckily I've known Gale for years now and could get to his house blindfolded if I needed to.

Also lucky for me, Gale has an entire room to himself. Hazelle moved his brothers and sister into her room when he started working in the mines so that he could get as much sleep as possible before having to leave.

I tap on his window lightly and pause. I hear him begin to stir around in bed so I tap again more furiously and demanding.

Finally, he opens the window and through his sleepy haziness asks, "Catnip?"

I climb in through the window, startling him and causing him to take a few steps back. I glance around the room and find that we are alone. The door shut and the only light coming from the moon. It was rather late when we were watching the Hunger Games at home but it was obvious that Gale and his family went to bed much earlier.

I close the window and pull the shades so that nobody can see inside.

"I'm so sorry to come so late but I need your help."

"Sure Catnip... anything."

He changes into some fresh clothes and grabs his jacket and boots before going through the window with me.

We make a good team, sneaking out of the Seam and back to the meadow. Several times I try to give him a warning, to explain what I've done. I never can come right out and say it though. I continue to struggle with the words until we finally reach the meadow and I take him to the taller grass.

I pull back the grass and allow him to see the body.

I don't dare speak or so much as look at him. I can hear him gasp very quietly but nothing further.

"Catnip.. What happened?"

"He tried to hurt me. He had a knife. I-I… killed him." He still not looking at me, completely transfixed on the body on the ground. "Help me hide him? It might buy me some time with the Peacekeepers."

"They'll still find you." He's right, nobody in District Twelve has ever gotten away with murder.

"We can talk about that later. For now I just want to get rid of this body."

He nods to the legs and slowly makes his way to the upper body. The knife rests a few feet away, I grab it and throw it onto Bise's body.

We both look around and find nobody watching. With this knowledge we lift the body and move closer to the fence. "If we're lucky a bear will come and eat him." Gale says, his face morphing into something else as we push the body under the fence and crawl under ourselves. Once on the other side we pick him up again and continue to struggle deeper into the woods.

I hate doing this. I hate tainting my woods with such filth.

We don't go very far and when we're standing on top of a small hill, Gale begins to swing the body. I do the same thing and when he begins to count I prepare to release. When he says' three' we let go and Bise tumbles down the hill and into the brush below. It's too dark out to see if we did a good job but in the moonlight you can hardly see a thing. "Let's go back to my house and you can wash up." Gale mumbles quietly.

I nod and follow behind him, I take one last glance down the hill and see the reflection of the old knife looking back at me.

* * *

Gale comes back into his room with a bucket of water and a clean towel, he sets the two things beside me and I slowly begin to wash the blood off of my hands.

I'm drying them off when he says, "you have to run away."

I set the towel down knowing we were going to have this conversation the moment I first came to him. "They'll catch me."

"You know the woods. Know them better than anyone else. You might just make it."

I shake my head violently, "don't you remember the red headed girl and boy?"

"She didn't know the woods like we do."

"You don't know that." I whisper, suddenly afraid of waking Hazelle. "I can't leave Gale. What if they don't find the body? And Prim and my mother need me, they won't live without me."

He moves closer to me. "You can make it Katniss. I can take care of your family, I swear I can. But you know they're going to find out what you've done, with or without a body. Hiding him bought you only a few hours. What you need to do now is grab some stuff from home and head out as soon as possible."

My chin wobbles and despite how cruel the words sound from him, I know he's right. "I can't…"

"You have to."

I think of every possibility, anyway I can take him and our families with me. It's not possible though, the best chance of any of us making it was for me to disappear. Prim…

I fight the tears but he makes it impossible when he suddenly pulls me into a hug. I bury my face into his shoulder and let out a soft cry. I only cry for a few minutes but when I pull away I know exactly what I have to do.

I crawl over to his bed where I left Prim's medicine and hand it to him. "Do you have a paper and pencil?" He has to go find it in the kitchen but he returns shortly after and gives both to me.

I bite my lip and try to think the exact words I can use to say goodbye to my family, probably forever.

Gale sits and waits patiently giving me all the time I need to do this.

I begin to scribble and do my best not to cry again.

_Mom and Prim, I have to go now. Something happened and staying here will get me killed. Gale said he would take care of you guys but just in case he can't then you need to look under my bed. There's a loose floorboard and inside of that some money. I'm so sorry I'm doing this to you guys but please know that I love you both. Burn this note._

I fold the paper four times before hiding it under Prim's medicine.

* * *

I lift my window as quietly as possible before lifting myself in and closing it. Just as I get my feet on the floor I hear the knock come at the front door. I don't listen to it as I begin to gather the things I'll need. Some durable clothes, anything I might need in the woods like a water bottle or a knife. I'll grab my bow and arrow once I get out into the forest. I hear Gale telling my mother that I'd come to his house suddenly and asked him to bring Prim her medicine and then left without saying anything else.

It's perfect. When they begin the investigation it will save Gale any implication in helping me.

I have a bag packed and ready to go. My mother's asking Gale for an explanation but he's buying me time by saying I only look scared and frantic. I get down on my knees and lift the floorboard under my bed only slightly so that they can find it easier. I have to go now, Gale can only get me so much time.

But no matter what I just can't bring myself to go back through the window. I hear Prim coughing in the other room and all I want is to run over to her and tell her how much I love her. I can't though, they'll kill her to if they think they she knew anything. My sister struggles with lying and I know that in the face of Peacekeepers she would panic.

It's killing me but I have to. I slip out of the window and shut it quietly before moving as quickly as possible back to the woods. Gale still at my front door and I want to run back and tell him what a great friend he was, how I could never have made it without him.

I don't though. I just keep running until I'm at the fence for the second time tonight.

I get my bag to the other side before crawling under. I get my bow and arrow before continuing through the woods. Tonight I'll rest in the old cabin by the lake where my father taught me how to swim. After that… I have no idea.

* * *

It's not until I'm almost to the cabin that I realize something is wrong. This whole night has been wrong but the cabin in particular.

When I hear the sound of branches cracking behind me I know why, I wasn't alone. I turn, aiming my bow and arrow at a girl in her mid to late teens. I try to recognize her but I've never seen her before in District Twelve.

I want to tell her to be quiet but before I can she lets out a scream. I hear the door open to the cabin and somebody running out. I only hear one set of footsteps but don't turn around to see for sure.

"Stop!" The person behind me says, I realize it's a woman. I still don't turn around as I continue to hold the bow on the other girl.

"Who are you?"

The girl in front of me tries to answer but can hardly get a word out. The one behind me does all the talking, "my name is Twill and that's Bonnie. We're from District Eight."

"Come around." I call out to her. She takes tentative steps until she stands beside Bonnie. Twill is much older, at least in her thirties.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

Bonnie looks terrified, "you're not a Peacekeeper?"

"I'm from District Twelve."

"So why are you here?" Twill asks.

I bite my lip and then release it, "I have to leave Twelve. They'll kill me if I stay."

The girls look at each other but quickly look back to me when they realize I'm waving my bow. "Why aren't you in District Eight?"

"Ever since the Quarter Quell was announced things have been… rough there. There was talk of a rebellion starting, people were getting violent with each other. Bonnie and I left after my husband and her family were killed."

"Why aren't they looking for you?"

"They probably think we died in the riots."

"A miracle that we didn't." Bonnie throws in.

"And you're just wandering around in the woods?"

Again the two look at each other and try to communicate something without speaking. Finally Twill turns to me and asks, "what do you know of District Thirteen?"

* * *

I'm too exhausted from the last few hours to do much else then fall asleep as soon as I collapse in the cabin. It's impossible though, despite their apparent innocence I still don't trust Bonnie and Twill.

I lay there for hours but nothing happens. I half expect them to spring on me and drag me back to District Twelve. The other part of me wants to believe what they say is true. It's not crazy think the Capitol lied about District Thirteen.

I almost fall asleep once but as soon as my eyes close, they snap back open. The sting hurts enough that my eyes begin to water. Tonight was easily the worse night of my life.

I lost my family, my friends, my home. All because of that bastard Bise.

It really was the worst night of my life, even worse than the Victory Tour night. I'd never say it aloud, but I didn't hate that night. I hated the decisions I made, the way I'd allowed my mind to become so hazed. What took place was nothing so terrible that I stayed awake every night regretting it. What took place was an enigma, a complete and total mystery even to me. The Victor from District Two was always on the back of my mind, but never invading the rest of me. He was still monster, a terrible person who deserved nothing but death. But maybe I understood him a little better than I liked to admit.

I roll onto my side, looking at my new companions. My bow is behind me, as far away from them as possible. I don't think about the life I took today. I don't think of the two more lives I could just as easily take. I don't think about the District that was supposedly still in existence. All I can think about is my sister and my mother reading my note, going into my room and seeing the loose floorboard. When the coins spill out into their hands they'll know what I've done.

They'll also know there will be food in their stomachs for at least a year.

* * *

There's a map spread over the floor of the cabin the next morning. I gathered some eggs which Twill and Bonnie eat ravenously. It's in the fresh light of the morning that I realize how starved they look, with cheekbones sinking in and sharp bones sticking out.

I've easily made my place in their journey, the food gatherer, the hunter.

Afterwards we take a closer look at the map, readjusting our position now that they know where they are in relevance to District Twelve. We've still got quite a ways to go.

Still, I'm amazed how far they've made it from District Eight. The last leg of the journey that I'll be joining them in is nothing compared to what they've already been through.

"We should stay here another night." Bonnie sighs longingly, glancing up at the roof and then the four walls that keeps the place up.

Twill shakes her head, "too dangerous. I'm sure by now Peacekeepers are looking for you, right Katniss?"

I shrug, "maybe." I haven't told them what I've done but obviously it was something illegal if I'm on the run now.

Twill nods her head, "best to get as far away as possible then." She looks at me with a worried glance. Her and Bonnie had never had to worry about the Capitol since they left District Eight. I on the other hand, was now wanted and they would be looking for me. It would just be a bonus if they were found with me.

I understood the risk I was putting them in but they also understood that they needed me if they wanted food. It was a silent agreement, neither one of us were very comfortable with it. Our comfort didn't matter though as we loaded up our supplies and left the cabin.

I take one last look at the lake, the place I learned to swim with my father so many summers ago. The cabin I was always curious about, where did it come from? Who built it? Did it have anything to do with the Hanging Tree like I envisioned when I was a child?

I wonder if I'll ever see this place again as we slowly move into the forest, deeper than I've ever been before.

For a moment I'm terrified of stepping into the new tree line, of really leaving my home. My heart shattering at the thought of Prim so many miles behind me. Would I ever see my sister again? I told myself yes, the thought of not seeing her hurt too much. My mother, Gale, Madge, and even the Boy With the Bread, I could let them go without being able to say goodbye. But not Prim.

We continue through the woods, the silence echoing through the woods along with the songs of the Mockingjays.

* * *

According to Twill we're getting closer's to District Thirteen. She says this excitedly after I've been with them for one week. They've both gained a healthy amount of weight and this seems to make them more enthusiastic about having me around. A bonus that there have been no signs of a pursuit.

Both women will usually sit around the map and look at the little red circle they have around the former District, a light in their eyes and hope radiating off of them. A new start, a new home.

I can think about this. I can't think of my old home either. I don't know what I can think about out here.

I'm squatting in the forest, my hood pulled up but beginning to soak from the rain. I take a deep breath of air, still amazed at how clean it is. I always thought my forest was the purest place you could find. It turns out even that had been tainted by the coal mines. I wish I could tell Gale that there's more, that the further you go the more you can breathe. The Capitol no longer has its hands around my neck. The Capitol doesn't exist out here.

I'll never take breathing for granted again.

I load an arrow onto my bow when I see a squirrel scurrying up the tree across from me. I aim and pull back, releasing my arrow and feeling satisfaction when it penetrates the target. I glance around to see if any bigger game is around but when I realize I must be alone, I go after my kill.

I gather my things up and do a quick count of what I've gathered for today. Enough to feed three people and maybe then some.

I'm getting closer to where we were camping when the copper laced air hits me. It hits me the second a scream rips through the air and chills my blood. I throw myself behind a tree and pull my bow out. I load it up and carefully set my bag down.

I move as quickly as I can while trying to maintain silence. When another scream echoes in the woods I find myself breaking out into a run. Was it the Capitol? Did they find us?

And maybe the cruelest, yet the most crucial question, did I still have a chance to save myself?

It's not the Capitol though. When I finally break through to camp I'm met with the site of Twill slumped over a log, several chunks of her skin falling off and several claw marks. The screaming was coming from Bonnie who was a few hundred feet away from camp. A bear stood over her motionless body and continued to sniff at it. I held my arrow on it and was tempted to release it.

I slowly moved over to Twill and dropped to one knee, pressing my fingers against her throat and feeling for a pulse. I could hardly look at her face, her eyes wide in an expression of horror. Her skin was warm but cooling quickly, no pulse to be found.

The bear stood over Bonnie but was becoming bored with her lack of movement. It wandered off, back into the woods with not a care in the world.

As soon as it disappears I rush over to Bonnie, dropping to my knees and doing the same thing with her as with Twill. Her skin is much warmer but still no pulse. There's also more damage to her face, a large chunk of her cheek falling onto the ground and revealing muscle tissue beneath.

Even if she did manage to live the infection would eventually kill her.

I'm not sure what I feel about this. Numb.

Certainly numb. There's still that sickness at the bottom of my stomach whenever I catch a glimpse of their mangled bodies. But mostly I'm numb in mind about their deaths.

I go back for my bag and shoo away the birds that linger around it curiously.

I move slowly around the camp, wondering if I should bury them or leave them to scavengers. Burying them seems more appropriate but I really have nothing to dig a hole with. I gather both their bags and set them around me, going through them and seeing if I can find anything useful. I take the map for sure, ignoring the small bloodstain in one of the corners.

Bonnie had a knife but the blade was dull and barely on the handle. Twill had a few more matches left and a compass that you need to tap a few times in order to work.

The rest of their possessions were clothes that I doubt I can fit into. The only thing I might have used was Bonnie's rain jacket, but she wore that when she died, now it's shredded and bloodied.

I take a deep breath and grab Bonnie by the legs, dragging her over to Twill and resting the two beside each other. Twill said District Thirteen was only a few days away, maybe not even that. It seems a shame to me that I'll have to face getting there alone now, that they worked so hard and traveled so long only to be stopped days before their goal. Guilt spreads through my veins as I look at the two of them one last time. They look horrific.

I raise my left hand and press three fingers to my lips. It's the only funeral I can give them.

(Page break)

That night I eat more food than I've ever had in my entire life. I have to eat most of the meat before it goes bad, but eating enough meat for three people has me falling back and feeling bloated. Still, I refuse to throw any of it away. I do however share a few chunks with a fox hiding under a bush. I'm surprised to see it, having never really gotten this close to a fox before. Not without an arrow in it anyway. I take a moment to admire it before laying down for bed.

The next day there is no rain but a light mist spread across the floor of the forest.

I try to track myself on Twill's map and I think I must be going in the right direction, I could just as easily be going nowhere though.

The thought occurs to me that I should just say to hell with District Thirteen, I've been able to survive fairly well in the forest.

Still, I know staying out in this forest alone for the rest of my life will do me no good. Maybe in District Thirteen I can find out what's happening in the rest of Panem. If District Eight's rebellion did any good or if it had already been overcome. I could track the future Reapings and see if my sister's name was called. And if that happened… I hadn't thought of that. Would they punish her because of me? Draw her name on purpose because of what I've done?

The color drains from my face and my breaths come up short. Suddenly all I want to do is turn around and run back to District Twelve, throw myself down to the first Peacekeeper I see and confess everything.

I stop walking and hesitate on going any further. I'm in a clearing.

The mist is so strong that I almost miss it at first. But when I take a closer look I finally see the former structures that stood here. My eyes widen at the crushed buildings. This was District Thirteen?

I hear a gun cock before I can do anything. I stiffen up, slowly raising my arms and turning around.

Before I can, a hand grabs my shoulder and forces me to continue looking straight ahead.

"What's your business here?" A nervous voice asks.

"My- my name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm from District Twelve.

There's chaos around me as the boy radios in that he found somebody wandering around the District. He tells me not to look at him, to keep my eye straight ahead. He slowly removes the bow and arrow from my back, slipping my bag off as well and setting it to the side. I know without looking that the gun is trained on my head.

I do exactly as he says and don't even bother resisting as he ties something around my eyes.

More voices, more footsteps and more questions. I answer everything truthfully, surprisingly calm with all the movement around me.

I don't even care when they pat me down, taking the knife hidden in my boot.

Somebody grabs me by the arm and starts to drag me forward. I'm only surprised when a voice speaks out from behind me, I realize it was the nervous boy who first found me.

"Sir! She said her last name is Everdeen and that she came from District Twelve."

There's a pause, "is that true?" Demands the person holding onto my arm.

I nod, "Katniss Everdeen."

I hear somebody mumbling in the background, speaking quietly before they're told to shut up.

What significance can my name hold here?

It must hold some because the grip on my arm is not nearly as tight as it was.

I'm lead into the District and nearly scream when the ground suddenly begins to fall. The others don't seem concerned with this so I assume it's perfectly natural. District Thirteen must be underground as Twill and Bonnie had thought.

We continue downward for several minutes, occasionally the radio will have muffled voices and somebody will talk into it. I listen closely but they speak rapidly and use code words that prevent me from figuring out what's going to happen to me.

We must be on an elevator for it suddenly stops and doors open. I try to peek out from my blindfold but still can't see a thing. I'm continuously led down a hallway, the tiled floor feeling foreign under my feet.

We turn into a room where I'm left alone, the door shuts in front of the men who brought me here. I slowly pull the blindfold off and blink several times to get used to the light. It feels strange being inside after a week of the forest. The room is small and looks like it's used for interrogations. There's one table in the middle the room with two chairs on either side. I set the blindfold on the table and take my place in the chairs facing the door.

There's a mirror on one side of the room. I think it's a two way mirror, something Madge Undersee once mentioned. I can see my reflection on this side but on the other side people can see into this room as though it were a window.

I feel self-conscious that somebody could be watching me right now and I wouldn't even know it.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, it feels like an hour but it could be fifteen minutes for all I know.

The door opens and I sit up straighter in my seat, prepared to answer any questions they asked me. The hallway was much brighter than the inside of the room and it takes me a minute to adjust to the figure standing in the doorway.

I pause when I finally get a good look at him. I don't know if this is some sort of trick District Thirteen is using to scare me, or to be cruel and hurt me.

"D-dad?" I blurt out before I can process it. It's my father, has to be. I'm frozen on spot and not sure how to react at all to this. Of all the things I was expecting this had never crossed my mind.

"Oh Katniss…"

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice so high that it hurts my throat.

"I know this must be a surprise to you-"

"Surprise? You're supposed to be dead!" I yell, standing up and taking a step backwards from him. It couldn't possibly be him, my father was blown to pieces six years ago when I was eleven. His body was never recovered. The man in front of me was an imposter.

"What kind of sick joke is this?!" I hiss, pushing myself up against the wall and as far away from him as possible.

"Let me explain." He says, taking a step forward.

"Explain how you're still alive? Why are you here?" My chin wobbles. "Explain why you left us." I say in a more calm voice.

He left us. It hits me then that all those months I spent mourning him, every day of watching my mother disappear or Prim starving, he was alive and well. I don't speak again, looking at him and waiting for his answer.

He takes a seat opposite of where I was sitting a few minutes ago. "Now you have to understand that I never wanted to hurt you guys. I have thought of you every single day and have missed you every second of it. But Katniss, sometimes we have to sacrifice in order to build a better society."

"And that's what you're doing?" I ask slowly. It still hurts though, all the pain we went through because of him.

"Yes."

"But why are you here?" I ask, hating how pitiful my voice sounds.

"This District is the best chance we have of overthrowing the Capitol. Can you see it now? No more Hunger Games, no more suffering. When you were a little girl there was always talk of rebellion but nobody ever _did _anything. I found the opportunity to actually do something and I took it."

"The mine collapse?"

"Staged. The group of us coming to Thirteen were in one pocket of the mine. Dynamite was set off to collapse the tunnels we should have been in that day. We were already on our way here by the time the others realized something had happened."

"And what do you do here?" I mumble out. I'm listening to his response but more than anything I'm thinking of all those years ago when he would make mention of how terrible the Capitol was. I think of Prim and how I try not to say anything around her so that she doesn't wander off and repeat it to somebody else and get herself killed. He must have been doing that with me.

"It's not until recently that we've made any progress. The army here is weak but the last year we've been growing stronger. We try to help when we can, to take in refugees who escape their Districts. There are plans of an assault on the Capitol that we're finally seeing come into fruition."

He pauses and I'm trying to absorb all of this but it hardly makes any sense.

In a soft voice he asks, "but why are you here Katniss, why aren't you home?"

I feel the tears stabbing at my eyes but I won't let them out in front of him. "I'm here because I'm wanted for murder." I say it softly, looking at the roof and not at him. I think of the man I'm in the room with right now and the one from my childhood. I'm beginning to remember what it felt like to be in his presence, calming and comfortable. Is that why I can confess so easily?

I finally look at him, seeing the shock slowly fading from his face. When he opens his mouth, I shake my head, "I don't want to talk about it."

He closes his mouth and nods slowly.

Reluctantly, obviously afraid of the answer he asks, "your mother and your sister?"

"They're okay right now… there might be retaliation over me leaving though. They could… they could reap Prim. You have to bring them here."

There's a knock on the door and a man peaks his head in. "Meetings starting upstairs Everdeen. Want me to tell them you can't come?"

"Depends? Is he there?"

"For now."

My father looks frustrated, glancing from me to the man at the door. "He'll be there in a minute." I call out, finally getting a hold myself. The man looks at me like he's noticing me for the first time.

"Sir?"

My father smiles for the first time since I got here. "You heard her."

The door closes and I watch it for a moment before taking a step forward, and then another step and then another until I'm standing in front of him.

I wrap my arms around him, like I fantasized about doing so many times after his death.

His arms wrap around me and pull me in closer. This time I can't help but let a few tears escape. It's only when I'm about to let go that I find anything wrong. He smells like gas and oil, like an old book that no longer serves any purpose with the words faded from it. Not like the pine forest that he once dedicated so much of his time to.

And maybe I can change that.

* * *

We go up the elevators and down several halls.

"I have an extra room in my apartment that you can stay in." He says to me, though I think he's saying it more to himself as we continue down the halls.

"Should I go there now?" I ask, he's going to a meeting that I would serve no purpose in.

"Not right now. Boggs will be there and I should talk to him afterwards to let him know about you." I take it Boggs is a higher command.

He turns abruptly into another room. I follow closely, not wanting to find myself lost in this place.

Again I feel self-conscious, the room is packed full of people. Most are standing around and chatting idly and take no notice of me or my father.

I follow him to one corner of the room where three men sit. "Ever-" One starts and then stops when he sees me behind him. "Who's this?"

"My daughter, Katniss."

"From Twelve?" He says, completely stunned by my presence.

I nod and my father says, "yes."

"I'm from Twelve as well!"

"Same here." I glance over to the quieter voice that says this and reel back when I see him. No doubt he is Gale's father, with almost the exact same features that Gale and his siblings possess.

"Hawthorne?" I ask.

I hold his attention now, "how did you know?"

"Gale's my best friend."

He looks like he's about to ask me something but stops when somebody at the front of the room begins to clap for our attention. Everybody begins to sit down, I sit between my father and Hawthorne who quietly asks how his family is.

"Fine." I think about everything I know about him which is limited considering Gale and I became friends after our fathers 'died.' The only thing that stands out to me was that Hazelle was pregnant at the time. "It was a girl, her name is Posy."

I miss his reaction because somebody at the front of the room begins to talk.

"We're moving on to the issue that we left off at yesterday. Are you ready to continue District Two?"

District Two?

"Why would they be here?" I whisper over to my father.

"You didn't see the end of this year's Hunger Games?"

"It must have happened when I was traveling here. Why?"

He's about to answer but stops when somebody begins to talk from the front of the room. "Problem, Twelve?" The speaker calls back.

"Continue, Two." My father calls out.

But the speaker doesn't continue and my father doesn't seem to notice as he leans over and whispers to me, "this guy's a real piece of work."

The speaker doesn't continue and I don't respond to my father.

Cato and I are making eye contact.


	4. Gluttony

Gluttony:

I'm almost to the bottom of the massive bin of clothes. It's second nature now to fold everything that comes through. I've only got a few more articles of clothing, a District Thirteen issued sweatshirt and a pair of work pants when a husky older women dumps a new load of clean laundry into my basket.

The first time this happened I'd been annoyed. Now I simply reach in and begin folding a warm T-shirt.

Hours slip by without me noticing. Sometimes I think of Hazelle, always washing and folding clothes for other people, for money that hardly made a difference. An entire day of washing and folding could hardly get her a roll at the bakery. Then there's her husband, here with clean clothes and food in his belly every night while his son is left with the responsibility of providing for the family.

Then there's my own father… in my mind he was always the good guy. But my mother gave up everything for him, a comfortable life in Town for a man who willingly left her one day. Left her with nothing but to starving daughters. A bitterness takes over me and I have to refold the jacked I'd been working on after manhandling it.

Was I any better though? I left her and my sister. I can say that I left her more money than we'd ever had in our lifetime but money meant nothing when the shelves in the stores were empty. I also left her Gale who would work himself to death before he let any of them starve.

My heart longs for home, for my family and the ignorance of District Thirteen. I want Prim, to wake up every morning and be able to see her safe and sound even if it mean putting up with her useless cat.

I have to shake myself back to reality and realize once more that there's no place back home for me. My sister had six more Reapings and if she could make it past those, she would be fine.

When the whistle blows I go to dinner despite my guilt. I've always lost my appetite when the false voice of Effie Trinket echoes in my head. She's either calling my sister's name or one of the Hawthorne's.

I head down to the cafeteria now used to the occasional looks I receive. Certainly I look different from the majority of native District Thirteen citizens. It's been two weeks but my skin still has some tan to it. My hair is darker than most of people here as well. It's clear that I'm a refuge. There are a few here who've managed to escape their District's hold. None of these refuges are as intimidating or as renowned as the Victors who now call this place home.

From what I know, and that's limited considering I'm only the daughter of the Duly Appointed Representative of District Twelve, the country is heading into a second rebellion.

The cruelness of the Quarter Quell was too much for many people and with only a handful of tribute's left, District Thirteen destroyed the arena and rescued them. From the rumors whispered I gather one of the surviving Careers managed to kill themselves. The others… well who knows?

The Capitol managed to kill many other Victor's while others were rescued and know wandering the same halls as me.

I'd passed Gloss, the Victor from District One, on my first week here. Many girls watched him pass by with hearts in their eyes.

In the cafeteria I'm indifferent to the long lines and the steady stream of words. My tray is loaded and I head to the usual table, taking my seat between my father and Hawthorne as I've done for almost fourteen days now.

I can't help but look past the tables and see across the room to where District Two always sits, where _he _sits as usual.

He recognized me. Remembered me. He hasn't spoken to me and I've never looked him in the eye since my first day here. I guess it's a wordless agreement to keep quiet.

If only it were that simple.

A tray falls across from me and I know without looking up that Haymitch Abernathy's sickly yellow skin is twisted in a scowl as usual. He block my view of District Two as he stares down at his plate without a care in the world.

While I was in the woods his last tribute was killed, leaving him his reining title of 'District Twelve's Only Living Victor.'

I can't stand being around Haymitch. He was in District Twelve during the Victory Tour. He goes to Ripper enough and I'm sure he's heard all the rumors about me.

He gave me an odd look when my father introduced us, taking my hand and looking me dead in the eye as though to say _oh I know. _

He hadn't said anything. He never spoke, actually. Thirteen was a dry district and it was taking its toll on him. When he absolutely had to communicate he usually just groaned and sighed.

I tear my eyes away from him, focusing on the tray of food in front of me. I've gained a lot of weight since coming to District Thirteen as well as my time in the woods on my way here. Enough that my ribs no longer show and I can stand for several hours and not feel at all tired.

I can never stop thinking of Prim though, my darling sister who was so sickly when I abandoned her. I reassure myself constantly that my mother and Gale will be enough. My mother will do her best, that's something I'm confident of.

Gale will try but at 19 he has three kids of his own to feed, along with his mother and now my mother and sister. He's one person and the mines don't pay him nearly enough. Now that I'm gone I imagine he struggles to get much hunting done. Maybe he'll teach one of his brothers? I doubt it though.

I force myself to think of anything but home. The white walls of the cafeteria and the endless grey shirts give me little else to ponder.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning I don't immediately get up. In fact, I ignore my father when he comes to wake me. He always goes to breakfast early so I can afford to lay in bed for a while and play with a loose thread on my otherwise perfect blanket. Eventually I force myself up, not bothering to fix my bed. It was usually Prim who ended up making our bed. Even when she slept in my mother's room by the time I got home from a morning hunt my bed had been fixed up the best that she could considering the ripped and torn material we slept with.

I force myself to take a shower and then return to my room and at least attempt to straighten it out. I braid my hair as usual and once it's securely tied behind my back I open the door to the living space. I lean in the doorway watching my father read from a manila folder intently before finally realizing he's being watched. His hunter's senses are definitely askew. "We missed you at breakfast this morning."

"Bullshit." He does a double take on me, surprised by my language. I don't usually cuss, not in front of Prim and limited in front of my mother. I respected her enough to at least make an effort.

"Katniss-"

"You didn't miss me this morning like you haven't missed me for the last six years."

"Listen to me-"

The words leave my mouth before I can gain any control over them. "You left us for dead! Do you know what happened? How many Tessera I've taken just for one tiny meal? How much mom lost it after she thought you died? She wouldn't even talk for weeks. And Prim! Do you have any idea how much she hurt, how close she's come to dying! I don't expect you to understand though. You didn't have to listen to her crying at night, when she was starving and in pain. No, you've just been filing all your papers and going to all your meetings while I've taken care of them. You don't deserve them!" I'm aware of the hot tears falling down my face.

He stands to say something but I don't want to hear it. I run from the room, sprinting down the halls as fast as possible. I don't know where I'm going, the opposite direction of the laundry room, anyway.

I end up collapsing in a storage room, pulling my knees to my chest and sobbing into my arms. I'm in there for at least in hour, long past the time I should have reported for work. I just can't bring myself to care about folding clothes.

I begin to feel slightly embarrassed for my explosion but they were things that I needed to say. Things I'd been thinking from the moment he first reappeared in my life.

My fingers flex and I know that if I were home right now I'd be in the woods. It always calmed me to hunt. Couldn't argue with the results either, a bit more money and food.

I haven't seen the sun since I first stepped foot inside this place. I laugh, bitter and resentful. I'm glad Bise is dead. I just wish he didn't drag me down with him.

* * *

I'm reprimanded of course. When I eventually make it to work I'm immediately sent to the Disciplinary Office where I'm made to sit patiently in a small room. Only one other person is waiting as well, something about him oddly familiar. I try not to stare but instead I stare at my feet and scowl. In District Twelve I never really did get punished for anything. When I was 14 a Peacekeeper took a rabbit that I'd killed as 'confiscated goods' when it was clear he was too cheap to buy it. Other than that not even my mother punished me. Why punish the primary breadwinner?

Maybe it was a disciplinary problem on my end.

"So what are you in for?" The man asks me. I'm startled he even bothered to speak after such a long period of silence. I lean back in my chair, "skipping work. You?"

"Failing to work well with my teammates." The way he says teammates makes me believe he has no desire to work with them at all.

"I know I've seen you before. What do you do?" Usually I wouldn't care, but something about him is so familiar yet I can't put my finger on it.

"I used to be a stylist for the Capitol."

Besides Peacekeepers I'm not sure I've ever met somebody from the Capitol. I watch him shamelessly for a moment when it suddenly clicks in my mind. "You were District Twelve's stylist."

"Yes."

I remember him now. He set fire to the Tributes on the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games and again this year for the Quarter Quell. They'd ridden in the chariots for once not in tacky costumes or smudged in coal, but rather fierce and powerful looking. If it weren't for the whimpering and cowering the proceeded to do throughout the event.

"I'm from District Twelve." I say suddenly, as though it would actually mean something. He smiles softly and nods, "you have their features."

I try to sit in the quiet once more only now I'm more curious what such a normal looking Capitol born stylist is doing in the Disciplinary Office of District Thirteen.

"Cinna." A man pops out from a back room. The stylist, Cinna, gives me one more faint smile before going to one of the doors. I continue to wait only now alone.

Eventually I'm called to a different room by a woman. Her office is tiny and I have to squeeze into a chair in front of her desk while she sits pushed against a wall. She writes in a folder for several minutes, long enough that I begin to feel uncomfortable.

"Skipping work is a big no-no here, Miss. Everdeen."

"My apologies." I say, void of emotion or any real apology.

She finally drops her pen and watches me for a moment. "First offense after only a few weeks of residency here? I don't want to see you here too often now. Offend five times and you go before a committee that may determine that it's best you be banished from the District. Would you like that?"

"No ma'am." She seems pleased with my answer and begins to write some more.

"You'll provide community service. The walls on floor six need a good washing. You'll report there tomorrow instead of work. Clear?"

I nod.

"On your way then."

* * *

I do a pretty good job of ignoring my father for the rest of the day. He tries to talk and justify his absence in my life but I just can't hear it without feeling indignant. I stay in bed until I'm sure I'm alone in the compartment the next morning. When I get my schedule it shows I'm dismissed from work and instead need to report to the Disciplinary Office.

As soon as I enter the tiny room again I'm given a work smock and sent to the sixth floor. Cinna the stylist is already there when I arrive. He tosses me a rag and then nods to the opposite wall across from him.

I dip the rag into the already murky bucket between us and begin to clean. I don't know what happens here but the walls are filthy. Like somebody covered their hands in dirt and then dragged their hands against the wall. Probably the soldiers. There the only ones permitted outside for watch duty.

It's one long hallway like all the others and with just the two of us will take us all day to clean. I'm already begging to dread the outlook of the day, especially when I take a long look at my schedule and realize I'm not permitted a lunch in the cafeteria but will have a meal brought to me and that I won't be excused until four.

"So why did you skip work?"

Without taking my eyes of the stains in front of me I answer carefully. "I got into a fight with my father."

He must turn around because his words are much softer and clearer. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I guess." I answer truthfully.

He turns back to the wall and begins to wipe his side of the wall again. "Why don't you get along with your teammates?" I ask, finding the work less boring with somebody to talk to. There's something about him that just automatically makes me like him. Even if he's from the Capitol. He's here and that must count for something.

"My job is to style the president now. It's kind of silly considering everybody wears the same thing. Anyway, her other stylists know how to sew and that's about it. I fired them pretty quickly but as it turns out the only ones allowed to change jobs is the Career Office. This is my punishment for disrupting order."

Seems a little overdramatic to me but I have to remind myself that this is an entirely different District that has its own rules and regulations. Even if he's right and they are silly.

Some time goes by before he speaks again. "You're Everdeen's daughter, aren't you?"

"Yes. Katniss."

"I heard you left District Twelve and walked here by foot. Why?"

I haven't really told anybody but my father. Even him I didn't go into detail with. I don't really know Cinna but I have a feeling he won't go running off and telling people everything I say. Besides… It might be nice to finally get it off my chest.

"Murder."

Without skipping a beat he simply says, "oh." No judgment

"You don't sound surprised."

"Murder is an everyday occurrence in the Capitol."

I smile despite myself. For the rest of the morning we talk. Mostly him but I throw something in once in a while. Cinna joined an underground rebellion when he was fourteen the day after his mom didn't come home. They told him she'd been in an accident, that she'd fallen down a set of stairs at a park. This, he says, is what they tell all new orphans.

The rebellion didn't really do anything though. He lived with his aunt and eventually went to styling school, doing small jobs for TV stars before finally hitting it big as a Hunger Games stylist. "I wanted District Twelve."

"Why?"

"I had some ideas for it."

"The fire?"

"The fire."

He asks me little things. What did I do in Twelve, my hobbies, my friends. I tell him too. I tell him everything because, really, what could he do to me from here?

At lunch a woman brings us sandwiches and juice boxes. I wipe my hands on my pants before unceremoniously chowing down. Afterwards it's back to the walls that we finally begin to make progress on.

By the end of the day my fingers are raw and wrinkled but at least I have a friend here.

* * *

I end up taking a nap until dinner. I'm only woken by a soft knock on the door and my father standing on the other side. Together we walk to the cafeteria, I know he keeps looking over to me but I refuse to speak.

Dinner is a silent affair for the most part. Sometimes they talk about work and business. When Haymitch excuses himself (and by this I mean grumble something unintelligible and then wobble away) I catch sight of the table usually reserved for District Two, currently vacant of anybody.

Hawthorne catches where my gaze has landed, "District Two is probably still quarreling amongst themselves. There an argumentative bunch."

"What are they arguing about?"

Both my father and Hawthorne look surprised at my sudden interest in another district.

"You see," says Hawthorne slowly, "a lot of soldiers and Peacekeepers come from District Two. Maybe some from the Capitol but it's a last resort there. Like a way to get out of debt or avoid some other punishment. Now remember that as a Career District, Victors are highly treasured in Two, with a great amount of influence over the citizens. If Two's Victors were to unite and say they supported the rebellion, then a majority of the Capitol's power would be gone… unfortunately the issue is still in the air."

"Why?"

"Nobody can agree on anything. That's all rumor of course. They're probably in a meeting right now discussing this with the President herself."

"Oh." I drop out of the conversation as I begin to realize it's really none of my business. I'm just the laundry girl. I stab at my green beans a little more violently then I should. Looking at Hawthorn I can't help but miss Gale. He would love to talk about rebelling openly. Hell, he'd probably be in charge by now.

I smile silently to myself but otherwise push the homesickness away. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

When we get back to our compartment I try to make it straight to my room but with no such luck. "We need to talk about this morning."

I let go of the door knob and turn, back pressed to the door frame and wiping my face clean of emotions. I wish I could say the same of my voice. "I've said everything I needed to say."

Before he can get another word in I slam the door shut and go to bed.

I'm not sure how long I was asleep before the alarms began to scream.

* * *

I run out my bedroom door to meet my father who's just putting his shoes on. I do the same and follow his lead as he goes out the door.

"What's going on?" I ask him, admittedly scared by the flashing red lights. He can't hear me though. The sirens drown my voice out before it can get to him.

A mass flood of people spill into the stairway. Once they seem to get their bearings everybody, including children, appear calm and not at all frightened. Every time we turn a corner I can catch a glimpse of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, who are ahead of me.

Occasionally I glance to my side to be sure I haven't yet lost my father. He too wears the same expression as the people in front of me, a calmness that betrays any other emotion he must feel at this time.

As we descend further the sirens loud calls lessen, until we finally arrive at the massive doors of an underground bunker.

I can hardly stare at them in awe, as the people behind me occasionally bump into my back.

We're required to have are arms scanned before we can enter, then after that we have to find our bunk areas.

I follow closely to my father who leads us to a number that matches up with our compartment number.

"Wait here."

While he's gone I take a look around. I find a paper with instructions and try to read it but can't manage to focus on the words long enough for the words to make sense.

I sit on one of the bunks anxiously. I tap my fingers against the metal frame and bounce on my heels but nothing makes me feel better or slow my heartbeat from its erratic race.

I look around but all the faces blur into blank masks. I can see people lining up in the general direction that my father ran off to. I bite my lip, half tempted to find him.

Could I make it? It's not that far but there's plenty of traffic to confuse me.

There's a loud slam, the doors being sealed for our stay down here. A chill sets over me, both from fear and the coolness that slides off the cavern walls.

The last hiccup of people are passing me and finding their own bunks.

When I catch sight of my father returning he's carrying to packs. When he opens the m he reveals a thin mattress, bedding, two sets of gray clothing, a toothbrush, a comb, and a flashlight.

We set up our bunk before sitting and awaiting what to do next.

Haymitch Abernathy stumbles past us and without bothering to retrieve a pack simply collapses onto the bunk he's assigned to which rests right beside are own. Hawthorne and the one other man from District Twelve nod to us, setting up their bed and whispering quietly to each other.

"You okay?" My father asks.

"Do you know what's going on?"

He shakes his head. "It's not a drill, that much is obvious."

He looks to Hawthorne and then back to me. "I'm going to see if they know anything. Will you be alright by yourself?"

"Yes." I answer despite my uncertainty.

He goes to the others and the three of them huddle together to discuss something that must be important.

I'm startled by a thick voice, "Oh you drunk!"

I glance up, seeing a rather tall man with the end of one arm missing. I see him poking Haymitch who must have already passed out. The two of them together seems familiar and it's only when the man is stumbling away that I realize it's Chaff, a victor from District Eleven and a drinking buddy of Haymitch's. He sets up a bunk just a few away from us. Like Haymitch he hasn't bothered with retrieving his pack.

There's something about this setup that puzzles me.

A woman takes the bunk above Chaff, actually taking the time to set it up properly.

I press my lips together. Haymitch just past Hawthorne and beside my father and us… then Chaff and the woman who I know recognize as Seeder, another victor… From District Eleven.

They've organized the foreigner's by District and that means…

My eyes fall to the end of our aisle and sure enough my eyes land on the sharp features native to District Two. I recognize Brutus, a rather violent victor who stood towering above everybody else.

Other than that I can't spot anybody else. Especially when the lights dim. My attention snaps to the sudden crack and voice that that echoes through the cavern. "Thank you for such a speedy and well organized evacuation. We have reports of the Capitol firing and launching an attack. We are uncertain at this time if they are meant for us, but do not want to take any risks. More updates when they become available."

The voice is gone and it's only then that I realize how quiet it had been. Suddenly though, the room is back to its soft mummer.

I'm about to take my shoes off but stop when Haymitch waves me over. I'd thought he'd passed out.

"Everdeen, go get me a mat why don't you?" He slurs out. He can't be drunk but he still struggles to speak. I'm not sure why that is, but I do need some sort of task to busy myself with. Even if it's something as simple as getting the drunk a pack.

"Sure." I mumble, probably too low for him to pick up on.

I make my way to the station unnoticed by my father and the others. I wait in line, patient as the others appear to be. I get to the front where a man attempts to hassle me pointing out that I've already received my pack.

Eventually though, as the line behind me grows, he caves. "If Abernathy comes here and I can't give him his material, it'll be you who pays. Got that?"

I roll my eyes, taking the bag from his hands and turning to get it back to Haymitch.

Being underground must have messed with my usual hunter's senses because I could have sworn there was nobody directly behind me.

But I do end up crashing into this person who so mysteriously showed up behind me.

I'm about to mutter my apology and be on my way when _he _suddenly laughs.

"Fancy meeting you here Stone Face."

* * *

I'm not sure how he does it but one moment I'm in the bunker with an entire District around me and then next I'm in a room alone with him.

Around us are crates labeled with their contents and tanks that prohibit fire anywhere near them. 'Emergency Backup Supply Only' is painted in red on one wall.

I ball my fists up, finally meeting the eyes of the boy who killed mercilessly and then turned around and shook my world up.

"Why did you bring me here?" I hiss, dropping Haymitch's bag beside me and crossing my arms over my chest.

He doesn't say anything right away. I fight the urge to squirm when he looks me over, seeming to inspect every element of my person before smirking and leaning back against a pile of crates.

"How did Miss. _Everdeen _make it all the way here from her slum?"

"None of your business you damn brute."

He pushes off of the crates and takes a step towards me. I don't dare step back and force myself to stay firmly in place. "Stop now. You're hurting my feelings."

I scowl without meaning to as he takes another step forward. And another, and another, and one more. I can feel his breath on me and still manage not to skip backwards.

I narrow my eyes, forcing myself to lean forward when I hiss, once more, "_brute_." He smirks and leans forward and this time I do pull back, as his lips come closer to mine. "_Everdeen_." The word rolls from his tongue like poison.

"Screw you." I snap, immediately regretting my wording.

"You did."

There it hangs between us, everything exposed and forced to be comprehended. It's strange that I actually like it. A secret that should be shameful thrown out in such simple context. I smile despite the heat beyond my control rushing to my face. The lights flicker as I'm sure they must do outside the room we're in.

"I did, didn't I?" I whisper, though it sounds much louder in the otherwise silence of the supply room. The words escape me before I can even comprehend them, "you must think I'm a whore." It's not Cato I'm thinking of but Bise who resonates in my mind for a moment

"I don't think that." The lights go off completely. I can hear some people yelling outside the door.

"You left me all those coins." I insist, a bit relieved that the lights are off. Maybe it should scare me, as it did months ago, that I'm alone with a monster. We're a little past that at this point, though. I can no longer see him, only feel the heat that emits from his body. I drop my head, staring in the direction my feet should be.

"You looked like you could use them."

I bark a laugh. "You don't come off to me as someone who's selfless."

"I'm really not."

"So why would you do that?" I grow frustrated, trying to understand something that should be simple.

"Isn't it obvious?" When I don't immediately respond he says in a voice I might actually consider soft, "you were my tour guide."

Before I can think of any retort I'm suddenly thrown forward, the entire ground shaking.

I'm aware a few crates falling around us, but it's the last thing I think of when I fall onto him.

My head smacks into his shoulder pretty hard because for the next few seconds I struggle to gain my bearings.

Just when I'm about to pull myself up another bomb must hit us. The ground doesn't shake nearly as much as I thought it would but I pause to see if another will hit between now and the time it will take me to stand up.

The lights dim in and out and I get a good look at Cato. More specifically I get a good look of him watching me. Butterflies spring up in my stomach as I push him away so that I can stand up and take a step back.

The voice that spoke earlier returns. "Two missiles from the Capitol just hit the surface of District Thirteen. Neither were nuclear. Please remain calm, we don't anticipate any more at this time."

Cato stands up and for a minute we simply wait for more. But there's no more bombs and slowly I pick up Haymitch's bag. I'm about to leave but before I can make myself go out the door I have to ask. "Did you tell anybody?" I know it must sounds silly but I want to know if I'm the punch line of some sick joke.

"No. Did you?" He asks curiously.

I snort. "Back home they probably figured it out. Not so much here…" I let the words linger before slipping out the door.

* * *

It takes me a while to get back to where I was. There are hoards of people who opt to stay grounded until the lights return. The safety lights that outline the floor walls are my only guide and eventually I can hear the concerned voice of my father calling my name.

"Where did you go?" He asks, pulling me into a hug and then grabbing my shoulder as though to reinforce his concern. I swing the pack beside me and nod to Haymitch. "Mr. Abernathy needed his supplies." I answer as boldly as I can.

I pull away from him and move to Haymitch, opening his bag and tossing its contents to him. The lights slowly return and it's then that I see how badly his hands are shaking. Enough that he struggles to pull the sheets over the thin mattress. I gently knock him away, something he glares at me for. I ignore him as I make his bed, straightening the mat and then putting the sheets and blankets on properly.

I think he'll leave me alone but I catch him staring past me and when I look I realize my father is now distracted by talking to a man who appears to be an official.

I don't think much of it until I realize that this was something Haymitch was waiting for.

"Where the fuck did District Two take you?" He hisses. My blood turns to ice as I turn quickly to my left and right, to be sure nobody heard.

"Nowhere." I snap back.

"Oh come on now kid! Everybody back home knows."

"They do not!" My voice raises involuntarily.

He takes in a deep breath to calm himself. "Well they can figure it out pretty easily. Now tell me the truth, is he giving you a hard time?"

Is that concern? I wave it off sure it's just my mind playing tricks on me.

"No." I've finished tucking the blanket over the sheets and now stand to look at him directly.

"So he just tells you to jump and you jump? Don't tell me your some lovesick girl."

"Why do you care?" I finally huff. I try to find a reason for him giving me such a hard time. Things like blackmail and hounding come to mind but honestly nothing seems very plausible with the former drunk.

"Look, your father's a good man. Two? Not so much. District Two is even talking of disbanding from the rebellion in favor of the Capitol. Do you know what it would do to 'dear old dad' if he knew what his little princess did with that Capitol lap dog?"

I take a deep breath to clear my mind, "he won't find out. It's none of his business just like it's not yours."

I can't sleep that night. Maybe it's the crying infants, the whimpering kids, the occasional snores or even the mad laughing.

* * *

The doors are opened the next morning. The voice I know realize is the President of Thirteen congratulates us once again, "warning shots ladies and gentlemen. Some damage has been done to the higher levels of the District, return to your compartments and if there's damage you must fill out a K-89 form for immediate reassignment."

More instructions and more forms to be filed. Luckily our compartment received no damage so after a quick shower my father gives me a quick goodbye and runs off to a spontaneous meeting.

When I get my schedule printed it tells me to go to work as I normally do.

As soon as I walk into the laundry room I understand why I was sent here while many others were given the day off. There are twice as many baskets filled to the brim with clothes. Now that I think of it I guess it makes sense that people would change out of the clothes they'd slept in as soon as they got home.

I grumble a few choice words before taking my usual station and begin folding.

I hate it here.

* * *

I'm finally dismissed for the day when a few more people report to the laundry room. They've been folding and washing for years and could probably do twice my work in half the time. The cafeteria is nearly empty when I go to lunch. Most people were probably sleeping or enjoying a free day. A rarity in Thirteen.

I grab my tray and drag it down the line where it's loaded with all sorts of food. After that I sit where District Twelve usually sits only this time I'm alone. I begin to eat rather quickly. My father and the others will arrive in about twenty minutes. I'm still not ready to speak with any of them just yet. I still feel frustrated with my father and can't help but wonder if that will ever go away.

A tray drops in front of me where Haymitch usually sits. It's not Haymitch though.

"What do you want?" I ask Cato, annoyed that he's here again. Couldn't he just leave me alone?

Ignoring me he instead takes a bite of his dessert first, as though pudding couldn't wait until after an actual meal. "You looked lonely."

"I'm not." I glance past him to where he usually sits. Empty of course. I'm about to ask him what he's doing here so early but it's just as I open my mouth that I notice how different he looks. Even more so than the day before in the supply room. Tired and agitated. There are little dark bags beneath his eyes and his hair has that just-out-of-bed quality. I close my mouth and think better of arguing with him now. I don't particularly want his company but once I'm done with my meal that'll be it.

I eat my meal silently, him doing the same. I'm just getting to my dessert when he suddenly breaks the silence that had actually been quite pleasant.

"Do you want to go outside?"

I drop by spoon and I know my mouth must be hanging open when I look at him.

"What?" I splutter out.

"I'm sick of being underground." Is all he offers up.

"Are you serious?" this time I set my spoon down. He only raises an eyebrow as though to say he's completely serious.

I purse my lips, "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about that part. So? Want to?"

I miss fresh air, and wind and the smell of the woods. I nod my head before I can even think to say yes. It's the first time he smirks since he got here. He nods to the door where people begin to enter the cafeteria for the lunch rush. "Let's go." I say, standing quickly. I don't want to see my father now. I especially don't want to see him with Cato sitting with me. Haymitch either.

"You gonna eat that?" He asks, still sitting and nodding to the pudding cup on my tray.

"No time." I begin to panic when the room slowly fills.

He reaches over and takes the dessert and then stands with his own tray as we make our way to the kitchen area. I throw my tray to the pile to be cleaned, as does he save for his spoon.

We head out one of the back exits that takes us to halls I've never been to before. He doesn't speak, just takes the lid halfway off the pudding and eating it as we walk wordlessly down the hallways.

We go up the stairs that must also lead to the cavern only this time we head up. When he finishes the pudding he throws it in the trash along with a perfectly reusable spoon.

We get to the last stairwell and then down a hall. They look like compartments under the charred remains. This must be where the missiles did the most damage, I realize.

He pushes a door open and sure enough there's the remains of an old compartment, the only difference between it and my own is the small window that's been covered with a few boards. Once I'm inside the burnt compartment he closes the door and then goes to the window, prying off the boards and then pulling himself through. The window was probably much smaller before the bombs but is now big enough for somebody his size to squeeze through. I sigh, jumping up and grabbing onto the edge. I curl my toes up and try to gain support from the wall and after a lot of squirming manage to pull myself up.

He's waiting for me, looking around as I do when I stand up finally. There are a few guards far enough away with their backs turned that I don't worry over them stopping us. There are a few patches of burnt ground but they must have already gotten rid of the missiles and fixed any immediate damage.

Cato begins to walk with me following him closely. We end up in the woods opposite of where I remember coming from when I first arrived in Thirteen.

We slow down once we enter the woods. I suck in a deep breath and let my eyes wander over the foliage.

"You said you'd been in the woods that day." He says offhandedly while he watches me.

"I hunt illegally." I shrug it off as no big deal. It doesn't really matter anymore. If the Capitol somehow managed to get me they'd probably care more about District Thirteen then they would poaching.

He accepts this answer without much emotion. He takes a seat at the base of a tree, head tilted back as he stares up at the sky. I join him in this way a moment later at the tree opposite of him. It looks like it will rain later. Birds fly far overhead, some singing and others gliding through the air with such grace and freedom. I try and imagine an entire District below me now but have a hard time fathoming it.

He closes his eyes and stretches his legs out over the dirt. I watch a squirrel eye him curiously from its perch above the tree. It must stare at him for a minute before snapping out of its gaze and scurrying up the tree into the leaves and away from my view.

That's when the first trickle of water hits me. Light little pellets that hit every so often. I take another deep breath, always having been fond of the smell of rain in the woods. In the seam it kicks up the scent of death and sickness.

I smile, wishing I could freeze time to this moment regardless of the company. Speaking of the company…

He's watching me, still looking exhausted but not so much stressed. "I'm sorry."

I blink, realizing he's spoken. It takes another moment for the words to hit me. When they do I'm confused over what he could be apologizing for. "What for?"

"Getting you drunk. Having sex with you."

"I consented." I put it simply. It's the truth though. I would have at least tried to fight him like I did with Bise if I hadn't known what I was getting into.

"You were drunk. You didn't know what the hell you were doing."

"Do we really have to talk about this?" I look up to the sky as grey clouds roll in closer.

"No." He sighs and gives in.

When there is lightning and the rain begins to pour down on us we finally head back to the window. I jump down first and wait for him. Together we set the boards to at least look stable before going back the way we came.

Outside the cafeteria we pause. "I guess I'll see you around?" He asks, glancing from me to inside the massive dining hall.

I nod but before I turn to leave look down at my feet sheepishly. "Thank you… I was getting sick of it down here."

He smiles and before I can think of anything else to say he turns and leaves.

* * *

Weeks slip past me. My life becomes never ending clock work that I can predict with ease. I do not speak to my father. I realize I've received a miracle by having him back in my life but when I was eleven and crying after Prim had finally fallen asleep, wishing and lamenting the world to bring him back, I should have been more clear.

* * *

At breakfast I don't notice it. At lunch I realize there's something going on. The people around me are much more quiet compared to the rest of the room. My father keeps looking at me. Hawthorne keeps looking into the distance curiously. The other man from Twelve (I still haven't quite gotten his name) smiles like a fool.

I finish my lunch and figure I'll leave early. Clothes don't fold themselves.

Just as I'm about to go dump my tray my father say my name softly. Not like he usually does but as though he wants me to understand something terribly important. I pause simply because his ton is different today but I do not voice my curiosity. Instead I wait for him to say what it is that is so different about today.

"I've had you excused from work for the rest of the day."

I sit down once more and wait for him to continue. It's Haymitch though.

"Gettin' new recruits today, kid."

"Excuse me?" New recruits? Like soldiers?

That's when it hits me. "Like you." I hiss at my father. His eyes are downcast when he nods his head.

"So let me guess! There was a terribly tragic mining accident today?" My voice raises and the people behind us turn and watch for a moment.

"Yes." My father answers.

The others watch us for a moment before slowly getting there trays and going to dump them. I don't move and neither does my father as we continue a silent staring battle.

"It would be nice if you'd join us in welcoming them."

"Welcoming people who left their families to die?" The words must be like a punch in the gut to him and even I'm surprised at how cruel my voice is. It's true enough though.

"The second rebellion is about to begin. Anybody who's willing to help is a great asset. Now let's go." He stands with his tray and after a moment I follow him even though I want to be as far as possible.

One long hallway after another, the long white walls slowly growing in the width before finally opening into a large hovercraft station. There are people everywhere working on hovercrafts and other machinery.

I cross my arms and wait with the others, not sure where to look for the new arrivals.

The roof suddenly opens and I take that as my answer as a hovercraft slowly lands in the center of my room. The roof closes. Shame, it's a beautiful day for a tragedy. The engines hum before dying as the back door opens. We take a step forward, me in the back and not caring to see who's on board. I guess I know people who work in the mines but nobody I particularly care to see again.

It's when I catch Hawthorne's curious face that it all begins to make sense. He thinks Gale will be on that hovercraft? Ha! He wouldn't abandon our home like that.

People begin to descend the ramp. I know a few from the halls back in school but nobody really stands out. One girl who's name I think is Terra.

They all look very uncertain as they take a look around the room. I cross my arms and watch them. All pretty young. Maybe they aren't abandoning any children after all…

Then _he _steps off the ramp. My eyes widen and I can feel the blood rushing from my face and my heart picking up erratically. No no no no no no. Not you too Gale.

I feel my world falling apart as everything I held to be true is spit in my face as his eyes wander around the dock. He couldn't. He wouldn't leave our families like this. They needed him, wouldn't last a month without him even with the good weather right now. Soon they will be freezing and starving together. I feel lightheaded looking at my hunting partner stand there so casually and without a care in the world.

The boy beside him taps his shoulder and points. I realize he's pointing at me as Gale's eyes meet mine.

"Katniss!"

I realize a lot of people are staring at me now. Usually I'd feel embarrassed by that but today I run. I pivot on one foot and take off into a sprint. It's only when the wind hits my face that I feel the tears flying past me. Nothing will stop me though.

I know he's following me. He probably hasn't even seen his father yet. "Katniss! Katniss, wait!"

I'm back in the halls we came from. Despite the months in the mines that took its toll on his lungs he's still fast. Or desperate. Either way I hear him getting closer.

I run for a while before he catches me. He grabs my elbow and pulls me back to look at him. He grabs my shoulders before I can get away again, like he knows I will. "Katniss look at me, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong!" He doesn't realize he's killed our mothers and our siblings? "You left them too! I thought you were better than that. I thought you were different but you're not!"

"What are you talking about?" As an afterthought he throws in, "how did you get here?"

I'm sobbing harder now, the tears falling freely as I let out a pathetic whimper. I take a deep breath to steady myself. "Your mother, Vick, Rory and Posy. My mother and Prim. They won't make it without you."

Understanding finally reaches him but he still doesn't seem to understand why I'm so upset. "They'll be fine, Catnip."

"How?"

"They'll find a way."

"That's not good enough and you know it."'

I hear footsteps and turn to see my father and Hawthorne just catching up. I see the slow bewilderment dawn over Gale's face as he finally sees his father. "But…"

His hands loosen their grip on my shoulders and I shrug him off, turning and running down the twists and turns of the hallways, confident I'll be alone this time.

I end up just outside of my compartment, my fingers gripping the door knob but ultimately not turning it. I turn, no longer running but walking briskly. I wipe my sleeve across my face.

Where can I go? The answer is obvious but I'm not sure I can get away with it. I go to the cafeteria but he's not there. I'm ready to just attempt going outside. If I get caught I'll take my sentence. Wall washing would be a wonderful distraction.

I'm about to go up the stairs when I glance down the hall and spot Cato talking in a circle with a few other men. Luckily he's facing my direction. I tilt my head towards the stairs and nod. I climb up and wait for him to finish talking. I can hear a faint mummer from down the hall that eventually lessens.

A few seconds later he's at the bottom of the stairs looking at me, face wiped of emotion. "You look like hell." I recall the last time I'd spoken to him how exhausted he'd looked. It doesn't matter now though.

"Take me outside again?"

He leans against the stair railing as he watches me for a moment. I realize I must look like a mess with red puffy eyes. "Well?"

"Sure." He shrugs.

He joins me up the stairs and leads the way as we go further up. It's the same route we took the last time only now the charred compartments are under construction, most looking repaired already. A few men working on the compartments spot us. One is about to say something but then realizes who Cato is and pauses. We go into the same room as before. I pause when I realize I'm alone. Cato stands at the door glaring at the men. The message is clear. _Don't tell anybody what you've seen here. _

I'm glad I brought him with me despite what those men must be thinking we're doing in a room alone together.

He shuts the door and comes to help me pull the boards down. He climbs out first and then waits for me outside. I can already feel the fresh air and the sun bearing down on me.

We walk to the outskirts of the woods together. I fall behind a tree and can't help but feel the tears well up again. I force them away and scold myself for such weak behavior.

He eventually comes to sit beside me at the same tree, head back and letting the sun warm his neck.

I look down at nothing in particular until I spot the prominence in my stomach. I'm hunched over but it's definitely a fat roll. I can't help it but begin to cry again. A few sobs escaping me. I'm not sure why I'm so emotional. Maybe because I'm no longer occupied with keeping people alive.

I have a fat roll and my sister will starve this winter.

"Hey… it's okay."

Is he actually trying to comfort me? I want to laugh but I just end up sobbing some more. I pull my knees to my body and let it all out.

A hand rests on my shoulders and I snap up, swirling around to its oblivious owner. "What's wrong?"

I don't know what it is about him that makes me want to cry harder and stop all at the same time but before I can stop myself I'm saying everything. Word vomit, is what my English teacher once called these sort of things. I'm saying everything, how much I resent my father and how I hate the fact that I'm eating but my family is suffering and that Gale abandoned all of them just like our fathers did and nobody seems to _care _because it's all for the greater good.

He listens without stopping me or complaining once. Finally, when I get it all out I have one more pathetic whimper before feeling an enormous times before.

Now that I finally slide my legs out from my chest and admire such beautiful weather can I feel embarrassed. We must sit there for a half an hour in silence, our shoulders pressed together along the trees edge. I should ask Gale how Prim and my mother are doing.

"I'm ready to go back now."

"Okay."

We slowly make our way back to the window, doing the same as we did last time. Just before we leave the room he blocks the door and looks down at me.

"I'm sure your sister's fine."

What does he know, he's a Career. I humor him anyway, "how's that?"

He shrugs. "Maybe this little rebellion will succeed before she dies."

I abruptly remember what Hawthorne said about District Two some time ago. "Are you guys going to tell your District to support the rebellion?"

I instantly regret asking. His face drops in a scowl and a little vein on his forehead pops up. He looks just as stressed as he did the last time he brought me outside. "Sorry." I quickly throw in. He nods and huffs as we stand in silence for a little while.

I nearly flinch when his hand suddenly reaches out and pushes a strand of hair still stuck to my cheek back. He holds it there for a minute before dropping it back to his side. "Let's go."

I'm a little surprised at such a gesture but can't bring myself to do anything about it. It just seemed to considerate. Not something we are. It's strange that we can be so comfortable around each other, though. Maybe I didn't follow the gossip too closely at school but I have seen the writings in the bathroom or overheard girls cry about what assholes guys were once you've slept with them. Nevertheless, Cato isn't the boy from District Twelve who broke up with me as soon as he got what he wanted. He's the guy who killed everybody in the Hunger Games and has no regards for rules and apparently likes dessert puddings. I'm not the girl who loved him before giving him something so intimate, or cried about it afterwards or even felt shameful. I'm the girl who killed first and questioned later. Maybe this is okay. It works. It's not normal but it _could _be. A blush stains my face. If he, as a guy, has needs and I needed something to take my frustration out on… I shake my head.

I stumble out of the room, ignoring the constructions crew's stare as I follow Cato down the hall as we walk in silence back to the cafeteria.

We leave the stairs once we're at the cafeteria floor and begin going through the halls, his arm occasionally brushing mine by mistake.

We turn a corner and I want to shove him away instantly.

"What is _he _doing here?" Gale growls once he realizes who I'm with. My father and Hawthorne are confused. Haymitch laughs.


End file.
